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Digitized by the Internet Archive 
in 2011 with funding from 
The Library of Congress 



http://www.archive.org/details/poemsofsentimentOOharm 




cents * 

of 

* Senti 




HARMAN PUBLISHING CO. 

Vauex Falls asb Oskixoosa, Kan. 



Copyright bx Cole-ax Bvegoixe Hasmam, 1005 



LIBRARY of CONGRESS 
Two Copies Received 

FEB 9 1906 

47 Copyright Entry 
CUSS <£. 'XXc. No, 
' COPY B. 



TS3fiC 



DEDICATION 



To the Sacred Memory of 

My Kind and Noble Parents 



NOAH HARMAN HARMAN 



EMILY BUEGOYNE HARMAN 



Who Lovingly Imbued me With the Inspiration 
and the Determination to do What- 
ever op Good I Max Ever 
Be Able to Accomplish I 

Most Devotedly Inscribe This Volume 



COLFAX BURGOYNE HARMAN 



To Oar First BorT2 — flngj© G. He\rroaT2 




There is a sweeter, richer joy to me 

In one dear, precious life which truly loves me, 

Than in a world of glitter and of gold, 

Or kingdom of stale honor and vain glory. 




COLFAX BUKGOYNE HAKMAN 



Bi ©gfr a.p"Bi ©a.1° 



Biogr^pBieed? 



Noah Harman Harman, eldest of eleven childreo of 
Solomon and Elizabeth Harman, was born in Pendleton 
county, West Virginia, January 24th, 1829, married 
Miss Emily Jane Burgoyne November 19th 1853 and 
emigrated to Kansas in 1857, traveling by steamboat 
from St. Louis to Leavenworth, and from there to a 
spot 3* miles west of Valley Falls, where he occupied a 
claim, which he increased to a farm of 1440 acres. Here 
he lived until his death, .November 16, 1897. 

Altho there were few schools in West Virginia N. H. 
Harman qualified himself to teach, principally by indi- 
vidual study at night, using a pine torch for a light, 
passed examinations in West Virginia, Ohio and Kan- 
sas, and taught school 17 years, being the leading spirit 
in the erection of "Harman" or "Peter's Creek" school 
house on his farm. 

September 9th, 1890, the Farmers' Vindicator was 
founded by him and the last ten years of his life were 
devoted to editing that weekly and increasing its circu- 
lation to nearly 2,000 He never aspired to office but for 
many years was called upon to act as justice of the peace 
and school director. 

Four brothers of N. H. Harman were ministers but 
his convictions were those of the Agnostic, or Liberal- 
confessing his inability to grasp the infinite. Of his 
character we quote from the pen of S R. Shepherd, a 
lifelong associate and friend: 

"His mind was stored with the knowledge which is 
gathered from a life time of thoughtful investigation 
in the fields of science, religion, philosophy, history and 
classic, literature. In the observance of the moral code 
of conduct, in the exercise of charity in the practice of 



Si ogr ap "Bi ca.~P 



the cardinal virtues of private life and in all those traits 
of character which give men standing among their fel- 
lows, he was the peer of .the highest and best in the 
community. 

"His religion was as broad as the universe. It was 
the religion of humanity. He ever sought to widen the 
boundaries of human thought, to exalt the conceptions 
of human aspiration and to make the earth a sweeter, 
grander home for man. 

"He believed in the religion of good deeds, of hon- 
esty, of cheerful hope and tender sympathy, in the re- 
ligion of love and liberty, of human kindness, of charity 
and of intellectual hospitality. And as he lived so he 
died. 

"His genial courtesy, his sterling integrity and his 
faithfulness to his convictions of right and duty will 
keep his memory forever green in the hearts of all who 
knew him." 



Emily Jane Burgoyne was a daughter of an English 
navigator, a cousin of the British General. "General" 
Burgoyne, as he was also called, married Miss Burnett, 
a French woman, became active in West Virginia poli- 
tics and held office nearly a score of years, but lost nearly 
all his possessions during the civil war. Mrs. N. H. 
Harman was a woman of unlimited energy and tireless 
industry, a fitting help meet for a hardy pioneer who 
left his mountain home to make Kansas a free state. 
The mother of nine children, thru drouth and famine 
and the perils of war, she was ever the unswerving 
main-stay of the home. She united with the church at 
an early asre, and two of her brothers were ministers, 
but in maturer years, her faith rested in humanity and 
her religion was to do good. Intellectual, thoughtful, 
sincere — she was kind, ever patient, forgiving, loving, 
devoting her life-effort to duty and to the welfare of 
those she loved. In the fall of 1897 Mrs. Harman sus- 
tained a fall from a carriage which caused her death, 
after lingering two years. 



Bi ograp'Bi ©a~P 



Of the nine children — Noah Webster was born in 
West Virginia, educated in the Kansas State University 
and the Agricultural College, and taught school eight 
years. Miss Alice Francis became his wife and four 
children share their new home a half mile east of the 
old place. 



Charles Fourier attended the State University,, 
taught eight years, was admitted at the bar, patented 
two elevating devices and was assassinated May 5th 1894, 
leaving a wife and four children. 

David Hume and Andrew met death by accident m 
infancy: (The former fell aerainst a nail which pene- 
trated the skull.) The latter was struck in the temple 
by a sharp corn-stalk while playing battle. 

Miss May Frances was graduated in the State Nor- 
mal and the Agricultural College, taking post graduate 
work at the latter place. She has also taken special 
courses in Harvard University, Chicago University and 
Chicago Art Institute. She is now Principal of the Art 
Department of the Kansas City Kansas High School. 

Mrs. Cynthia Lockhart Zimmerman attended the 
State Agricultural College four years and taught several 
terms. She married John A. Zimmerman, also of the 
Kansas State Agricultural College. They own the Val- 
ley Falls, Rock Creek and Meriden telephone systems, 
and have two children. 



John Bright Harman was graduated in the K. S. A. 
C, class of 1896 and has devoted his attention to farming 
and raising thoroughbred livestock. He also owns irri- 
gated farms near Colorado City, Colorado, where he re- 
sides, with his wife, formerly Miss Sarah Evans, also a 
student of the K. S. A. C. They have one child. 

Mrs. Emma Hortecsia Patten took a business college 
course after leaving hi^h school and was also graduated 
in the K. S. A. C. in 1896. Sue married John V. Patten, 
a member of the same class. They are operating a fac- 
tory in Chicago and have one child. 



Si ©grr&.p'Bi ©a.f 



Colfax Burgoyne Harman was born November 24th, 
1869, Si miles from Valley Falls, Kansas. He worked on 
his father's farm till the age of 18 aud completed the 
Valley Falls High School course in 1880 and the State 
Normal regular course in 1894, also the military course 
and special work in Higher Criticism. Hard work, 
learned on the farm, applied to his studies, enabled him 
to pass as many as seven branches in a term and secure 
an average grade of 94 on all studies in the State Nor- 
mal course. When a boy literature, history biography 
and theology were his favorite topics, and many spare 
moments were spent in the orchard or woods reading, 
speaking, or writing in verse. In both schools he was 
chosen class poet. Owing to parental iufluence the sub- 
ject of this sketch, totally abstaiued from the use of 
alcohol and narcotics and refrained from profanity and 
making a wager of any kind. In 1890 a pamphlet," 
Shylock's Judgment" was issued and sold, and later 
".Redeemed by Love," a temperance play was printed. 

C. B. Harman entered the newspaper business on 
leaving the Normal, and for three years, with J. A. 
Zimmerman, issued an anti-trust ready print for about 
thirty papers. This partnership also constructed Anti- 
trust, Independent telephone exchanges in Valley Falls, 
Rock Creek, Meriden, Baldwin aDd Bridgeport, Okla- 
homa, and founded the Jefferson County Tribune at 
Oskaloosa, also bought the Meriden Tribune and the 
Daily Patriot plant at Atchison. 

Selling the telephone exchanges to Zimmerman, 
C. B. Harman ran the Tribune and Vindicator alone 
till November 1902 when he sold a half interest to Geo. 
Harman. The Harman Publishing Company now owns 
a third paper the Oskaloosa Times and publishes a 
fourth, the Valley Falls New Era. 

C. B. Harman is secretary of the N. H. Harman Co. 
and has for eight years been a director, auditor and 
member of the executive board of The Co-operative In- 
surance Company of Topeka, of which N. H. Harman 
was one of the founders. Miss Gertrude Crumb, of 
Burlingame, also of the State Normal School, became 
the wife of the subject of this sketch Nov. 19th, 1898 and 
they have three children, Hugo C. Carol and Crystal. 



M 



ex 



Inele 



ex 

A Birthday Prayer 34 

A Conundrum 112 

A Criticism and A Wish 144 

Adieu 316 

A Death In The Night 86 

A Fizzle 262 

Afterwhiles 25 

A Gentleman 348 

Ah Homeward Go! 66 

A Home Beyond 234 

Ah Why Not We?, 104 

A Hymn 145 

A Husband Wanted 200 

A Lament— Slander, 303 

Alcohol 332 

A Little Star 78 

Alumni Poem 248 

Alumni Poem 87 

All is O'er 341 

Alumni Reception 265 

Ambition 193 

A n Old Home 189 

A Ruined Rose 77 

A Rustic Tragedy 305 

A Satire 156 

A Sonnet— Forgiven 44 

A Sonnet — Mistrust 46 

A Sonnet To Summer 38 

A Song of Acceptance 270 

A Song— Eula Lee 230 

A Song of Quivera 113 

A Skeptic's Thought 284 

Ask Me Not 31» 

A Simple Love Story ™> 

A Tale of Love °\ 

A Tale of Woe ]j* 

A Winter Evening *™ 

Betz and Betsey %f£ 

Birthday of Two Young Ladies ^5 

Birthday Surprise Party *** 

Boating In The Dark *w 

Bread and Butter x '* 

Clouds dy 



M 



six 



Come Back 314 

Com ing Thru The Aisle 164 

Conservatism 41 

Constancy 332 

Death of A Friend 220 

Death of An Aged Woman . . 267 

Despondency 328 

Despair 315 

Devotion 124 

Did God Make Satan? 94 

Doloris 336 

Do You Think of Me? 148 

Elopement 295 

Enroute 191 

Extermination of The Bison 288 

Falling Leaves 141 

Farewell Old Normal Halls 263 

G-entlemen Seniors of 90 and 4 166 

Gratitude 143 

-Gratitude 107 

Hawaii Shall Be Free 273 

High School Commencement Poem 221 

High School Literary 209 

Homely Jake 269 

Hop Tea 337 

How Kind. 228 

Humility Zi ™ 

Human Sympathy ou 

If You Were Bv My Side ^5 

I Haye Left My Heart Behind 173 

I Love You 162 

I Miss Thee fl* 

In Imitation of Don Juan lol 

Intellect and Love— A Sonnet M 

Joy 3 g 

Joy and Sorrow °^ 

Just Why *■** 

Kindness 2i 

Life ; ona 

Loss of A Dear Friend #& 

Loss of Friendship *™ 

Love and Joy . . L °i 

Love's Dawn -j™ 

Love's Delirium l °° 

Love's Endurance ™ 

Love In Death Di 



1723 



S>C 



Lovelorn 331 

Love's Rebuke 335 

Love's Return 76 

Love of Woman , 300 

Manilla Bay 345 

May I Come Home 172 

Misgivings 151 

Mortal Destiny 290 

Musings 137, 219 and 236 

My Pastime 108 

My Ship 36 

USTo Panacea. 96 

Normal Bells 161 

Normal Wings 216 

Not to Have and to Hold 147 

O Can I Wait? 122 

O Come To Me 177 

Optimism 343 

Our Friend Adieu 219 

Out In The Street 54 

O Windy Day 59 

Pnilomathian 258 

Phiiomathian Jubilee 286 

Proem . • 17 

Punishment 321 

Purity 159 

Rangers 101 

Reconciliation 58 

Redeemed By Love 178 

Refuge 261 

Remorse Over Death of Loved One 323 

Resignation 135 

Respite 152 

Rest 232 

Retrospective 333 

Returned 1"6 

Rose 218 

Satisfied £ 56 

Shylock's Judgment 274 

Silence 344 

Skating lo*> 

Sleep 63 

Snow ^5 

Song— Minnie May l^l 

Sonnet to a Mountain.. . 109 

Sonnet In Return For Flowers 95 

Sonnet— To Shakespeare 51 



M 



e:x 



Sonnet to Sorrow 40 

Sowing 271 

Speak One Kind Word 287 

The Acknowledgment 241 

The Holiday 150 

Tne House of Stone 285 

The Log Book 136 

The Parting from Pussy 176 

The Past 301 

The Silent Kiver 142 

Tne Singer— A Sonnet 47 

The Soul's Thirst For Solace 291 

The Spirit of The Hour . . 194 

Time and Eternity 190 

To Ella '. 97 

To "Washington 32 

To Whittier 42 

Truth Will Triumph 272 

Turn Thy Face to The Sun 35 

Two Conflicts 268 

The Blossom and Briar 343 

The A 1 terglow 346 

'Tis Autumn 43 

The Aftermath 45 

The Conqueror 339 

To Woman ... 49 

To The Dawn 55 

To A Teacher 65 

The Answer 70 

To The Snow 72 

The Blossom and The Maid 75 

The Muito-Martyr HO 

The Skepto-Maniac Ill 

To Our Soldiers In Blue 120 

To A Friend 163 

The Ways of Life 215 

The Sweetest Thought 322 

To My Landlord 3 »4 

When Death Comes 57 

Why They Went l ft2 

Who Is My Friend Tonight? 321 

Where Is My Home? 67 

Youth and Age 6 l° 

You Know Why 68 

You Love Me *8 

You Are Happy Today «» 

You Hold My Heart Forever *H> 



ros.T22 



17 



Pros 



<^m. 



♦ I N hours of gladness and in doleful days 
QJ Of sorrow, issued forth these little lays. 
As summer sunbeams in a cloudless sky, 
Some thrilled my being when hope's sun was high ; 
Some welled up in my troubled heart and brain, 
As mighty maelstrom in a stormy main; 
Some in the glow of love's mellifluent light, 
And some in gloom of grief and sorrow's night. 

Judge not too harshly, I no honors claim, 
Nor yearn to scale the laureled heights of fame. 
My form is flesh, my mind finite I know; 
And clumsy fowls fly best by flying low. 

I would not boast. The ever-during years 
That drift away, thru mingled joys and tears 
Have taught me as their changing courses run 
That, great or small, we count at last but one— 
That, low or high, God's number is just one. 



18 Posi'me, ©J ,Se:T2b'rr2e:T2t' 

"Of sentiment, and Songs of Vanished Years"! 

A tender theme, yet one has cause for fears 

The sentiment be maudlin and the songs 

But dirges o'er the dead past and its wrongs. 

Still, if in fond remembrance* jeweled case 

I add a velvet lining, or efface 

One blot which might a menace ever be 

Unto the holy joys of memory, 

Or give a moment's peace in place of pain, 

Perhaps that sentiment is not in vain. 

I would my lines could teach first and above 
All else truth, justice, sympathy and love. 
I would they might impress, if anything 
That hatred is the serpent's deadly sting. 

Search where you will thru-out the realm of tho't, . 
Sum up the whole of sin and evil wrought, 
Explore all fields where dreamers ambulate 
And you will find no deadlier thing than hate. 
And prejudice all moral law defies, 
In baffling truth and blinding justice' eyes. 



r©SlT72 



19 



If my poor rhymes impress but these and place 
A premium on kindness and menace 
The vile and bad, and if they tend to show 
That penalties attach where'er we go, 
That nemesis of wrong comes sure and fast 
Before life's grand denouement can be passed, 
That charm of womanhood and manhood's might 
Depend on virtuous thought and living right, 
And teach humility and gratitude, 
That happiness consists in doing good, 
That sinful thoughts bring evil deeds, and show 
That folly leads to vice and vice to woe- 
Should they teach these the cherished aim I prize, 
My fondest hope, I then would realize. 



I love my lines, to me they long have been 
A source of solace. From the noise and din 
Of business, from the farmers ceaseless strife, 
Newspaper cares, and "strenuous" college life, 
I love to disappear an hour — a day — 
In solitude to dream the time away. 



20 Poe-me, ©J S^nftmant 

Perhaps in shady grot 'mid damasked bowers 
When nature wears her sweetest springtime 

flowers; 
Where breathing zephyrs, harbingers of ease, 
Waft perfume of the flowers and budding trees; 
Where-by some purling brook flows to the sea, 
Alike our lif etide toward eternity. 

There where, in early dawn, resplendent light 
Subdues the somber darkness of the night; 
There when at noon the glorious orb of day 
To faith and righteousness points out the way^ 
And in the eve the golden setting-sun 
Suggests the end — our erring earth-life done. 



An hour with nature's wondrous works to scan 
One must return a wiser, better man. 
'Mid balmy beauties of a Kansas clime 
What soul who sees could save himself from 
rhyme? 

Such dear diversion is a grand soul-feast, 
And may my lines be harmless, say the least. 
Again your clemency, in hopes and fears 
To dedicate my songs of vanished years. 



Life 21 



Life 



♦ I T seems, sometimes, the stern decree of 
eJ fate- 
That there shall be no rose without its thorn — 

No life without its woe— would indicate 
'Twere better were we mortals never born. 

It seems, sometimes, when we have toiled for 
years 

To gain some end, yet won but scoffer's frown, 
That life is full of failure and of tears 

And one is wisest who would cast it down. 

The good and ill are ever side by side. 

There is no day but has succeeding night. 
Enjoyment goes with grief, what e'er betide. 

Eternally the wrong pursues the right. 

We love, but love can change to bitter scorn. 
We joy, and pay the penalty in tears. 

Youth, health and hope and love in life's bright 
morn- 
Decrepitude— then death, thus end our years. 



2S Posrme, ©j 5 Ss.T2tiT22e.T2t" 

If life is full of profit and of loss— 

Is fraught alike with pleasure and with pain— 
Why purchase both the silver and the dross? 

And, doing so, pray tell where is the gain? 

With weal and woe life seems a doleful mission. 

With thorns and roses ever side by side, 
Why wait and pine for hope's glad sweet frui- 
tion? 

Why live with death so painfully allied? 

Yet rarest blossoms grow close by the thorn, 
Else ruthless hands would pluck them e'er they 
bloom; 

And less of beauty would the fields adorn, 
And summer lose its freshness and perfume. 

Yet loveliest lives abide in lasting grief, 
And purest souls emerge from deepest woe. 

Long years of suffering, without relief, 
Refine the noblest characters we know. 

Were flowers and pleasures easy to obtain 
Possession might not then be worth the care. 

Our effort makes much sweeter what we gain, 
We relish riding after paying fare. 



Life 23 

For apples growing nearest to the sun 

The small boy -risks the highest, hardest fall; 

Altho upon the ground there may be one 
Much larger that he will not touch at all. 

The aim most difficult is what we crave, 
The bravest deed is that of which we boast. 

In fact what e'er we feel we cannot have 
We mortals seem to ever long for most. 

Warmth would oppress without the winter's 
chill, 

The day be dull, unbroken by the night, 

And love insipid knew we not the thrill 

Of disappointment and of sorrow's blight. 

A paradox it seems, and yet 'tis so— 
Our sorrows are but blessings in disguise, 

And life is far, far dearer that we know 
The loftiest and lowliest creature dies. 

This life is one great smelter, grief, the fire, 
Expels the coarser elements and dross 

And lifts the soul (the metal) standard higher 
With but apparent, no intrinsic, loss. 



524 P©€n22$ of ^5€lT2t'iT22e:T2't' 

This life is one grand school of discipline. 

Adversity, the teacher, stern, severe, 
Has truant laws with no age limit in, 

And old and young pay penalties most dear. 

There is a rose for each and every thorn, 
A glorious day for every night of gloom. 

Some glad young heart is ushered in life's morn 
For every soul who sinks into the tomb. 

There is indeed a balm for those who weep, 
A rest for those aweary of their care. 

Long-suffering souls, who constant vigil keep, 
Some day will hear an answer to their prayer. 

Aye let us then be gratified to give, 
Contented, do what good we can to-day. 

Live and not "let" but help mankind to live: 
A maxim it is well to keep alway. 



tfjWw-BitWs 2& 



♦ I was borne to the realm of the afterwhiles, 
Qj In the arms of my muse, thru the dreary miles 
And mists of the future that lapse and span 
The mortal now and the goal of man. 

I was borne to the realm of the future years, 

Far out of this sorrowful vale of tears 

And into the cycle that is to be, 

Where man from the sins of the flesh may be free, 

Where no wrong prevails, where no sin defiles, j 

In the beautiful realm of the afterwhiles. 

the afterwhiles! the afterwhiles! 
Thru morrow's mists a million miles, 
Afar from the realm of the minds of men, 
Beyond the scope of human ken. 
How little we know of time and space! 
How soon may time that little efface! 



2<D POST225 ©J 3s.T2tlT22S.12t' 

How small indeed must the finite be 
Compared with the vast infinity! 
Small portion indeed of the great Maker's plan 
Is the weal or the woe of the short life of man 
A leaf in the forest — a grain in the sand— 
A wave on the ocean — as grass on the plain. 

I had read of the gleams of Utopia's sand 
I had heard of the themes so sacred in story, 

And I thought I should find in that fanciful land 
A haven of peace and a realm full of glory. 

I had thought I should find but the good and the 

true, 
That the wrong and the false would be blotted 

from view, 
And untarnish by sin and by aught that defiles 
Would we be in the realm of the afterwhiles: 

And I thought that the future contained in store 
Bright joys that had never been known before. 

On those viewless realms I sought to gaze. 
My eyes were filled with the mortal haze, 
But methought I saw on a mystic scroll 
These words inscribed:—' 'The Mortal Goal." 



Then I thought that in that land must be a 

Palladium, a panacea, 

For all the ills and woes that find 

Their way to mortal flesh and mind. [glow 

Bright, beautiful realm, where effulgence and 

Of the good drive the dark shades of evil below, 

Where the good gives us peace and the truth 

gives us light 
Where faith spreads a halo of happiness quite 
O'er the universe, where hope's proud herald 

speeds on 
To the consummate joy, the millennial dawn. 

There were fountains of weal and wells of woe 
Along the way where my muse did go; [joy, 
There were sunshine and shadow, sorrow and 
There was that to ennoble and that to annoy, 
There was that to deceive and that to beguile 
In this omnibus era, the afterwhile. 
Tho rubies and pearls and amethyst lay 
In effulgent gleams of undying day, 
There were chasms and gullies so deep and dark 
With crime and sin that there came no spark 
Of light from their depth! There were tears 

and smiles 
In the nameless ream of the afterwhiles. 



^8 Poe:"m$ of ^>€^n } C\m.eiT2\l 

And sickness and sorrow and death were there 
In the land I had deemed so wondrous fair. 
And the face of hope's sun which I thought was 

so bright 
Had spots on its surface as black as the night. 
I saw mass upon mass and throng upon throng, 
A multitude crowding and moving along; 
And some were rejoicing and some were in tears, 
And thus were they passing the af terwhile years, 
And many grew faint as they struggled along 
But were ruthlessly tramped, neath the feet of 

the strong. 
I saw some that I knew to be wicked and vile 
Were leading their betters on mile after mile; 
While others of kindness and goodness possessed 
Were trudging alone far behind all the rest. 
Some cripples helped others strong-limbed and 

athletic, 
While pleasant smiles wreathed faces sadly 

pathetic. 

I grew sick at the sight and trembled with fear 
But I cried with my might— It is as it is here! 
It is as it is here, so my soul did avow, 
It is as it is here— it is as it is now! 



And I saw mid the mass as it struggled along 
Those I knew to be vile and deceitful and wrong, 
They were leagued close together in coteries vile 
Making up the procession long mile after mile: 
And oft I observed, what I fain would efface, 
That the vilest and worst had the very best place, 
While the meek and the lowly the good and 

the kind, 
Sad hearted and lonely, strode slowly behind. 
I grew sick at the sight and I trembled with f tar 
But I cried with my might— It is as it is here! 
It is as it is here, so my soul did avow, 
It is as it is here— it is as it is now! 



And so I say that the coming years, 

With their hopes and their dreams of the joy 
to be, 
Are as full of sorrow, as fraught with tears, 

As the wrong- wrought now and its misery. 

The afterwhiles, the afterwhiles, 
Trudge, wanderer, thru those weary miles 
Out into the realm of the is to be, 
Out into the great eternity 



-30 P©<£r?2$ ©J ^5€.T2tlT2^€:12't 

Search thou with the breadth of finite scope, 

Search thou to the height of infinite hope, 

Exhaust if thou wilt the power of mind: 

But vain be ever thy hope to find 

A higher type, or a loftier goal, 

Than untarnished flesh — than immaculate soul I 

0, the after whiles, the afterwhiles! 

Thru smiles and tears and tears and smiles! 

Does life's dull dream last on for aye? 
From the doleful gloom of sorrow's night 
Doth there come no gleam of shimmering light? 

Doth the morrow bring not day? 
What earthly joy would we not forego 
In this mortal sphere could we but know? 

Let the afterwhiles be afterwhiles, 

Tears will be tears, let smiles be smiles. 

Let by-gones be in the years agone, 

Why grope thru the night when there comes a 

dawn? 
Why mourn a dead past when the present gives 
Us beauty and pleasure and joy and lives? 
Sufficient the evil is unto the day. 



Do you know of some heart that is pining 

away? 
Some mother who mourns for her child which 

has perished— 
Some lover who pines for a heart which it 

cherished— 
Do you know of a form that is writhing in pain? 
Do you know of some soul that has struggled 

in vain? 

The place is here, the time, today. 
Drive doubt and sorrow far away. 

Lend the heart and the hand to the work that 

we have. 
There are hearts to cherish and souls to save. 
Live now, for the present, the good you can do, 
And thus best prepare for the coming years too: 
And know, above all, in thine own self lies 
The weakness to fall or the courage to rise. 

In the afterwhiles, when death's storm-clouds 

frown, 
Life's shadows lengthen, the sun goes down, 
And the purple gleams of the dying day 
O'er thy Care-grooved forehead flicker and play, 
relinquish thy life in the spirit of him, 
The sacred Child-God of the great Bethlehem, 
Who relinquished his life as a sacrifice free 
That our souls might live on to eternity. 



3S Posrme, of S^n^im^n^ 



To Wa5"B"ir2Gjt©T2 



l| sainted soul! Thou honored and revered, 
Vly Above all honored to our nation known, 

Thou whom, when our dear country's hope 
had flown, 

And death and ruin to our hearthstones neared — 

When dying patriots for their loved ones feared, 

And prayed deliverance from the cruel crown— 

thou who struck the direful enemy down — 

Her haughty hosts from all our harbors veered: 

From depths of Valley Forge to Yorktown's 
height, 

With heavenly justice armed and power divine* 
Marched on to victory and eternal right — 

Heaven sing thy praise. It is not mine, 
Or mortal, to depict the light 

Thy virtue o'er a world doth make to shine I 



Love's, D&jwo. 33 



^\_J AVE you seen a Kansas sunrise? How 
_] I the rich, resplendent light 

Floods the world and turns away night's dingy 

scroll! 
So does love's dawn in one's being doff the veil of 

sorrow's night; 
So does happiness' warm sun illume the soul. 

How the shapeless, frozen rocket, flying far thru 
barren space, 
Melts in meteor flash when touched by at- 
mosphere. 
So the life that 's lone and loveless, clasped at 
last in love's embrace, 
Casts a gleam of joy and love-light far and 
near. 

Let the sun-light and the love-light bless each 
creature of the earth! 
Peace on earth, good will to men, be every 
prayer. 
Let the doleful dirge of sorrow change to song of 
joy and mirth! 
Free the world from pain and heart-ache 
everywhere. 



-34 POS.T22S, of -Se.T2tlT22S.T2t 



A Birffiels^/ Pre^/<s 



er 



♦ I F I were to offer a prayer today, 
<2/ And I knew that the powers that be 

Would grant all the blessings for which I should 
pray 

Most freely unto me, 

I would pray that I might in true wisdom and 
power 

Increase as the days go past, 

And be able to do some good deed every hour 

That I could not have done in the last. 

If the fibre still holds in my life's slender cord 
Thru another short year, may I say 

I have cherished the good and all evil abhorred, 
When I read this a year from today. 



Tnria T%£ F8,©s fo tBe 5o.T2 3^ 



Tarr2 T% Fevee to ffie Sao 



Iired traveler trudging life's troublesome 
highway, 

Dark clouds cast their gloom where thy path- 
way doth run. 
Brave not the dense mists of the dangerous by- 
way, 
Seek the light, seek the right, turn thy face 
to the sun. 

wanderer wierd, since thou entered life's 
portal, 

Full many a sin in the flesh has been done. 
Repent of thy wrong, to sin is but mortal, 

The future is thine, turn thy face to the sun. 

0, thou weak and oppressed, a new era is 
dawning, 
Right battled with might and a victory won. 
Grope not in the night. Watch the gleam of the 
morning, 
Doff sorrow and gloom. Turn thy face to the 
sun. 



>B(9 P(D<2.T?2«, ©j* 5)SlT2tlT22e.T2t 



M^ Sftip 



i ^ \n a glad, bright day in life's month of May, 
Vly Hope whispered along the lea, 
And I launched my ship for a treasure trip 
O'er a shining southern sea, 

And I wait and I wait, but my ship and its 

freight 
Have never come back to me. 



Oh, warm was the wave, and my ship did lave 

Its sides in the silvery spray. 
And the wind blew fair and sweet perfumes rare 

Were waft on the shores of May. 
I plucked sweet flowers thru the balmy hours 

And basked in the sun's warm ray. 



I dreamed on the lea and I dreamed that the sea 

Was bringing me home my prize, 
And my life was gay and the month was May 

And I watched with eager eyes; 
But the vision fled. Now my hope lies dead, 

As much that is holy lies. 



My ship was lost. My treasure tossed 
Awhile on the stormy main, 

But a pirate sail soon drew in hail 
My precious freight to gain. 

Hope's sun sank low-ah well I know 
It never can rise again! 



That sea is life. 'Tis full of strife, 

By sin and grief engrossed. 
That ship-my love-a white-winged dove- 

I cannot count the cost. 
My priceless freight— my heart's young mate- 

The love I won and lost. 



38 PoeiT^Q, OJ" ^5€lT2tlT22€:T2't' 



A J5oT2T2e'C to SxA.mm<*v 



(p\ I ow bright the effulgent beams which 



/ \ cro 1 



crown the hills, 

And flood the world with beauteous, golden 
light! 

The earth from sea to sea is beaming bright 
With dazzling beauty, all the air it fills, 
And in my saddened heart new hope instills, 

Which frees it for a moment from its blight. 

See all around is bloom, the mountain height, 
And forest glade and banks of rippling rills. 
summer season, gladdest of the year, 

Sweet, radiant season, loving, blooming time, 
To me thy sunlit scenes are ever dear, 

My heart is filled with the music of thy chime. 
Thy warm sun soothes like a maiden's kiss the 

soul 
And cheers and thrills and beautifies life's 
whole. 



G£©a.cLs -j-^ 



Gfoad^s 



,T here are times when the clouds close o'er, 
J- And the sun disappears from our sight; 
And the day, tho a moment before 
All sunshine, is shrouded in night. 

So sickness and sorrow close down 

On the sunbeamy days of our life, 
And we lie in the night of God's frown 

And pray for relief from our strife. 

Grief 's shades are as real as those shrouds 
That darken the world with their forms. 

Oh were they as light as the clouds, 
Our lives might know fewer soul storms. 

But the future will roll all away. 

Take cheer lonely heart the deep gloom 
Will break forth and effulgence of May 

Smile over thy beauty and bloom. 



40 Poe-m$ &f S&ntim^nt 



-Sonnef to Sorrow 

(^ deep lie our sorrows, so deep in our 
^—^^_y souls! 

So heavily, weigh down the fabric of life! 

The struggling spirit is vanquished with strife, 

Yet onward grief's torrent still merciless rolls 

To crush our frail being, oh nothing condoles 

The bosom sore pierced by misfortune's sharp 
knife. 

The whole world with sorrow unceasing is rife. 

No solace is soothing, no savior consoles. 

Go bury thy sorrow, e'en make it a grave 

In the rent it has made in the depth of thy 
heart. 

Go bury thy sorrow, this silently save 

What grief to another would useless impart. 

Somewhere, mid the mist of the future afar 

Tho shrouded in shadow, is shining a star. 



GoTQ.ssrrv'a.tiSTM 41 



Got2 ^.erVevt i sm 



he seasons fly so fast! 
JL So soon the lovely flowerets droop away! 
It seems but one brief day 
From summer bloom to winter's frozen blast. 

The years go by so fast! 

And one by one our loved ones pass away. 

Life, health and hope today — 
Tomorrow comes grim death's cold bitter blast. 

Come while the bloom is on, 

Store well thy heart with virtue's richest 
treasure. 

Conserve life's purest pleasure, 

Then wear her jewels e'er the lustre 's gone. 



42 Poerag, of ^©-retime-rat' 



To Wftiffier 

Q^T)est thou in peace, thou immortal mind! 
1 A century hast thou spread a flow of 

light, 

In beauteous effulgence, pure and bright, 
To illume the darkness brooding o'er mankind I 
The chains that slavery forged thou didst unbind, 

And, groping thru the darkness and the night, 

Lost souls thou hast redeemed, and given sight. 
To those whom light of heaven sought to find. 
None dearer to our nation's heart is known. 

We have none greater in these shapes of clay. 
Not nearer to his God has mortal grown, 

Than thou who hast this moment passed away. 
Sweet soul, thy robes in heaven now unfurled, 
Take thou the benediction of a world. 



"yi is autumn. Gloomy are the skies, 
-L And drear the rain drops pattering; 

But when I look in your dear eyes 
I dream 'tis spring. 

'Tis autumn. Damp and chill the air, 
And sharp and keen the north wind's sting; 

But gazing in your face so fair 
It seems 'tis spring. 

'Tis autumn and the birds have flown, 
No more with song the woodlands ring; 

But when you speak your soft, sweet tone 
Recalls the spring. 

'Tis autumn, yet with all its gloom, 

If to my heart it could but bring 
Your love, hope's fragile flower would bloom, 

And life be spring. 



44 Po&t^q, ©J ■Ssmti-menat' 



6\fow bright and warm the sunshine seems 
j\^Jx>day! 

The sky how clear, how soft and sweet the air, 
As 'twere ambrosia laden! Blossoms fair 

Bestrew the meadows stretching far away. 

And strange indeed, it was but yesterday, 

My heart was burdened down with grief and 
care, 

The world seemed one dull picture of despair, 

And future skies all gloomy cold and gray. 

'Twas one sweet word that wrought the great 
transition; 

Just one sweet word, low spoken in my ear, 
That consummated hope's glad, sweet fruition, 

Calmed every pulse-beat and allayed my fear. 
"Forgiven," — and the gloom of night was riven. 
"Forgiven" — and I knew the peace of heaven. 



Tfie :flftgr-omt6 4& 

+ \ ot all, like Ruth, may glean 'mid sheaves. 
OJ \ Those favored rights are rare. 
The modern Boaz barely leaves 
The stubbles brown and bare. 
The modern gleaner gleans and grieves, 
Till his sinews exhaust and his bosom heaves; 
Yet no gleanings are found in his weary path 
But the grainless green of the aftermath. 

The king that both reaps and gleans today— 

In this world with business rife, 
In our hustle and bustle and heedless way 

Of living — the grain of life, 
Leaves reaper and gleaner to fall in the fray. 
The king is unkind to Naomi today. 
Heart-broken and weary, they droop in the 

swath, 
Nor survive till the green of the aftermath. 

reaper and gleaner, who toil in the fields, 
king, who controls both the gleaning and 

reaping, 
Share, share earth's rich blessings and bountiful 

yields! 
No caste and no crime is a maxim worth 

keeping. 
Who rule on the throne and who toil in the sun 
Their rights and their wishes are ever as one: 
And alike must all fall in the Death-Reaper's 

swath, 
For He garners the grain! and the aftermath. 



46 P©©.T22e, ©J ^5eT2tlT22€:T2t' 



il Soiree £, Mi^trcLst 

<Q\ fow apt the world to misconstrue our 
*j\ deeds! 

Tho rising from the inmost depths of heart, 
With earnest wish some comfort to impart 

To some poor soul whom solace sorely needs; 

Tho from the sacrifice our own soul bleeds, 
The world looks on and says it is some art 
Of cunning we apply in hope to start 

A cause which to our own advantage leads. 

Cold world, oh why mistrust our motives ? When 
Our own hearts feel so keenly pangs of grief, 

Why may we not make glad the hearts of men? 
God grant us power to give them more relief! 

Oft he who shields mankind from grief and 
sorrow 

Is paid in pain and heart-ache on the morrow. 



T"Bei ^5iT2Gjer 4T 



3 was lying low, low in the sere vale of grief. 
Cloud and gloom hung oppressingly o'er me. 

The future was midnight before me — 
No star and no sign of relief; 
But my season of sorrow was brief; 

For a balm came to soothe and restore me. 

It seemed that a seraph's wings bore me 
To realms where enjoyment was chief. 
A song, as a voice 'twere from heaven, 

Waft softly sweet strains to my ear, 
And the cloud of my sorrow was riven, 

And my soul filled with solace and cheer. 
Think I not of the singer who breathed thejsweet 

song? 
Yea, cherish her memory long, oh, so long! 



48 Poeme, ©J 5 ^>eiT2tlT22S.T2t' 



Yoa LoVe Me 

Avou love me, you say, 
JL Precious one, and the day 
Beams with beauty and bright are the skies; 
For the light of no sun 
Whose course is yet run 
Can compare with the light of your eyes. 

You love me, you say, 

And my heart, light and gay, 

Leaps with joy at the sound of your voice; 
And the heavens and earth 
Seem to mingle in mirth 

And make my whole being rejoice. 

You love me, you say, 
then love me for aye! 

For your love is the light of my life, 
The crown of my realm, 
My anchor, my helm, 

Be ever my dear sweetheart wife. 



So72T2€:t T© WoT22802 49 




To Mfom^u 



♦ I he world has had more than one Savior of 

men. 

So many, so many, along life's way, 
Wear thorn-crowns that we may wear roses of 
May, 
Bear sorrow that we the more pleasure may gain. 
Ah, Woman, what height can we hope to attain 
To rise to thy equal? How can we repay 
What freely thou givest unto us each day, 
To drive out earth's sorrow— to banish its bane? 
Withdraw thy sweet influence, the world is all 
sin, 
Restore it, you virtue and honor enthrone. 

With that deep dream of Eden did pleasure 
begin. 

Men were indeed lost, were they doomed to be 
lone. 
Crowning act of creation, great gift from above, 
Least tribute I offer— my holiest love! 



^)0 Pos-me, of ^5©T2iTit22e.T2-t' 



fiuraeoi JSj/rapsJtB^ 




♦ | he farmer who has sown his seeds 

Is much annoyed to find that weeds 
Have grown in place of golden grain, 
And so it is with all. No pain 
Is worse than for a soul to find 
No sympathy from human kind— 
To feel that all it does is lost, 
What e'er its pains, what e'er the cost — 
That briars of cruelty have grown 
Instead of seeds of kindness sown — 
That weeds of selfishness displace 
Tht grain of God's forgiving grace— 
And thorns of base ingratitude, 
The Savior's sweet similitude. 
The soul in sad humility 
Still longs for love and sympathy. 



-So-nmet" to 56a.^espe.ars 



JS©T2T2e't To Sfiesj^e^pesvre 



♦ I mmortal bard! Thou mightiest of men! 

0/ Thou myriad-minded muse whose fame 
has shone 

Thru-out the ages, and whose name has grown 
A household word on every tongue and pen, 
Give voice unto the years, pray speak again, 

Proclaim thru-out all time, in every zone, 

The cherished wisdom, which is thine alone, 
That erring man no more need strive in vain. 
Proclaim the time when sorrowing will cease; 

Nor crime nor wrong prevail, nor battle's gore 
Begrime the spheres, when men shall dwell in 
peace 

And harmony and love forever more. 
Engrossed in all the wisdom of the years, 
Confirm our faith. Allay our future fears. 



S2J POS1T72Q, ©j 5 S®:T2'tiT2QeiT2t' 



4 ^r ou are happy today, 
-L At your home far away, 
Far free from life's cloud and gloom. 
Where the south wind blows, 
And the wild flower grows, 
And bursts into beautiful bloom. 

You are happy today, 
So young and so gay, 

Rejoice in the summer hours; 
For the north winds blow, 
And the frost and snow 

Will wither the tender flowers. 

Be happy today, 

Dear one, while you may, 

Think not of the care and strife. 
Live in sunshine and spring, 
Little fortunate thing, 

We know too much grief in this life. 



lT2te.f "Pe©t ^T2el LoVe 



Infef f eet 8vn3 LoVe 



t I he meteor-flash of intellect oft outshines, 
J- The mellow light of love's enduring flame, 
As tender light of stars is put to shame 

When 'thwart the heavens dash those fiery lines; 

But love alone in starlight droops and pines, 
While intellect, in the flooding light of fame, 
Arises, crowning hopes of joy to claim, 

And largest riches from earth's treasured mines. 

Pure love-light burns with calm and ceaseless 
glow, 
Eclipsing all emotions less profound. 

Forever, in its unremitting flow, 

Sweet solace for the human heart is found. 

Pure love-light floods the over-flowing soul, 

Sustains and soothes and consummates life's 
whole. 




i)4 Posrms, oj S)<s.T2 i C\m<s.nk 



OuX. Iiq TBe Street 



kUT in the street, thrown out in the street! 

Out of employment, with nothing to eat, 
Out in the world, without friends, without home, 
Hoping and praying for death to come; 
Mother and children, bare arms and bare feet. 
Out in the cold and the pitiless street! 

There is the cook-stove upon the bare ground, 
Tea-kettles, frying-pans, scattered around. 
Here are their bed-clothes and there is the churn, 
No cream to put in it, no fuel to burn, 
No food, had they fuel— no bread and no meat. 
Out in the street! Thrown out in the street! 

Out in the street! Aye, thru-out our fair land, 

Too many belong to this wandering band! 

So many are homeless, with nowhere to rest, 

Save at the caprice of the landlord's behest! 

Some revel in riches, blase and elite, 

Some sorrow for solace and starve on the street. 



^50T2T2©t t<D t6s. Da.AX/T2 




To ffie DaWn 



♦ I is dawn, 'tis dawn, sweet, radiant, smiling 

dawn, 

Spreads silver streams of oriental light 
Across the world of accidental night. 
Thru tree-tops streaming, o'er the glittering 

lawn, 
O'er ev'ry beauty that we look upon, 
It smiles and glows so pleasing to the sight. 
Far to the west the shadows take their flight, 
And flee before the effulgence of the morn. 
Come thou oh happiness' dawn, oh pleasure's day, 
Come soothe life's sorrow and dispel its woe! 
Drive thou our hearts 's deep doubt and gloom 
away, 
As shadows fleeing from the morning glow. 
Come thou flood of spiritualistic light, 
Dispel the dark materialistic night! 



i)6 P©e"m$ oj Sentiment 



jS8v.fi ,sjW9 



^^atisfied? Yes, satisfied to live, 
n, * ' Alone with thee, my muse, with 

books to give 
Diversion and a stimulant to thought; 
But other hopes or pleasures I have not. 
Satisfied? Yes, while the millions throng 
About the tiresome globe, in grief or song, 
In search of that great nothingness, a name, 
In strife for vulgar riches, honor, fame, 
I'm satisfied to sit where soft winds blow, 
Where summer beams smile down and corn fields 

grow, 
Where blossoms spring from earth and scent the 

air, 
And muse and dream amid these beauties rare.. 

In restless youth I thirsted for renown. 
My spirit, bold, aspired for honor's crown, 
And listened to a siren voice proclaim 
There lay in store the gifted author's fame; 
But 'mid the strife, the trouble and turmoil, 
Of years and years of study and stern toil, 
I yield the laurels, lay the banner down. 
Luck to the leader be he king or clown. 




Wfe-o DeedT-fi GoT22ee, £>7 



"Wfiem Deaffi Gome^ 



ich thy charms, fair dame of fashion, 
Love-lit eyes and silken hair, 

Ringlets, pearls and jewels flashing, 

Many, many hearts ensnare. 
Joy be with thee in thy folly. 

Vanity the soul benumbs. 
Pride must fall and melancholy 
Mar those features bright and jolly. 

All must yield to destiny, 

And bow in low humility, 
When death comes. 

Bright thy crown; king of mammon! 

Great the power thou dost command. 
Destinies of men and nations 

Lie within thy mighty hand. 
May thy reign be filled with glory. 

To gluttony thy power succumbs. 
Empires fall and carnage, gory, 
Ends a many a king's life story. 

All must yield to destiny, 

And bow in low humility, 
When death comes. 



1)8 P©£T22^ of ^©T2ti*T22e-T2t 



Re G OT2G1 f 1 atl 0T2 



♦ I was like a cloud, that cruel altercation 

-*- That crossed our sky. 
The light of hope and sweet anticipation 

Dimmed in my eye. 
Oh, how I prayed for reconciliation, 

Dear, precious one! 
And how my heart beat in its exultation 

When it was done. 

'Twas like a storm, that awful intermission — 

A storm at sea. 
Huge billows of remorse and deep contrition 

Surged high o'er me. 
I seemed a fragile ship in gale-swept ocean 

With love my freight, 
And, foundering in the wave of my emotion 

Sank by its weight. 

'Twas like a pall upon the bier of pleasure; 

For love seemed dead. 
There was no sound of joy in tuneful measure; 

A dirge instead. 
Oh welcome the resplendent beams from heaven - 

The calm at sea— 
Blest be the pining heart at last forgiven! 

Peace unto thee! 



Ofi Wir>a^ D^ 59 



Oft WlT^ Db^ 



I 4 1h windy day! 

^-^ You blow my heart away. 

Oh gust and dust! 

Escape from you I must. 

Would I were laid 

In some cool forest glade— 

No storm molest — 

In peace to sleep and rest. 

Oh woeful day! 

You grieve my soul away. 

Oh broken trust! 

Lose faith and hope I must. 

Would I could lie 

Me down in peace to die— 

For aye forget 

The grief that does beset. 



60 Pqetos, oj 5 -Sena'h'msmt' 



Thou fainting heart, 

Let courage not depart. 

The storm and dust, 

Grief, doubt and broken trust, 

Will pass away. 

There dawns a brighter day. 

God doth design 

Peace for a soul like thine. 



K"it29t2<=:,s.s 



Who has a kind and humble heart 

Has greater gift bestown 
Than wealth obtained at honor's mart 

Or powe r upon the throne. 

The weary stranger, hungry, cold, 
With thoughtful, low-bowed head, 

Is turned from mansions rich in gold 
And from the cottage fed. 



Ti a "clsi LoVs: iT2 Derate 



61 



* f— J good man dying lay. 
Qj -*- Beside, his loving wife, with bated breath 
Sat watching while his life ebbed slow away. 
Her heart with his was linked in sympathy, 
I spoke no word, but sat in reverie. 
True love, thought I, it is true love in death. 



His pallid cheek and brow 

Foretold to us the end was drawing near. 
She clasped him closer now, 

As tho she hoped to hold with her embrace 

His fragile spirit in its wanton place. 
The hardest heart could not withhold the tear. 

True love, tho't I, it is true love in death. 



62 Poe.72-23 ©J Seintim&nt 

Days, weeks passed slowly by, 

And still his fragile spirit had not flown; 
Yet ever when the morning sun was high, 

Or when the moon's pale light at midnight 
shone, 
This guardian angel sat close by his side, 
True to the last, whatever might betide. 

So much his life into her own had grown: 

True love, thought I, it is true love in death. 

Oh, when I come to die, [breath, 

When God shall bid me breathe my latest 

Will some dear one be nigh, 
To give me love and sympathy and power- 
To soothe my spirit in the dying hour? 

Hath death for me that which life doth deny? 
Shall I, too, know true love— true love in death? 



££Wp 6% 



JSfeep 

YC> ast night I slept all thru a raging storm. 
I * So deep my sleep, so perfect was my rest. 
That, tho the household flurried with alarm, 
I neither woke nor dreamed of what had 
passed. 

The raging wind pressed hard upon the pane, 
The dashing rain-drops beat against the door, 

The lightning plunged its fiery shafts in vain, 
And deafening grew the thunder's mighty 
roar; 

Yet calmly, soundly sleeping there I lay, 
As tho impervious to impending harm, 
The firmament was riven by the storm, 



64 Foe-mo, ©f ,S<s:T2ti"me.T2t 

But all the while I slept. A soul innured 
To mightier storms than ever sweep the sky, 

The storm of pent-up passion, rests assured, 
And sleeps, tho all the elements rage on high. 

Winds cannot be more restless than our sighs, 
Nor water more abundant than our tears. 

While anguish thru the burning bosom flies, 
Like lightning flash, oh why have lesser fears? 

While in the breast there beats a mightier storm 
Than ever swept the earth's broad bosom o'er, 

Why add unto our grief, why court alarm, 
Tho mountains fall— tho oceans leap from 
shore. 

Ah well indeed could endless, dreamless, sleep 
Benumb the senses stricken with life's dole- 
Becalm the troubled tempest of the deep, 
And still the stormy passion of the soul. 



^©7212®^ To a. T<s.a.©"Be.r 



61 



To ^ Teacner 



* f— I nother mile-stone has been passed today. 
(0/ -*- In time's swift race another course is run, 

And you can rest tonight — the honors won. 
It matters not to you how glide away 
The fleeting years, for you can ever say, 

There is no gleam of morn or noon-day sun 

But views some noble work that you have done 
In making mind and soul from human clay. 
0, teacher, thou catholicon of earth, 

Thou moulder of the higher destiny, 
Lift up the mind of youth to nobler worth. 

Thy spirit is akin to Deity. 
The soul that's dead give thou a newer birth. 

The goal of man is immortality. 



66 



Posr^e, oj 3 ^)€.n¥\me:nt 



ilB H0iz3e\Var3 Go 



Parf I 

The north winds blow 
O'er deepening snow 
Ah, homeward go! 

The winter blast 

Is felling fast 

The withering mast. 

The darkening storm 
Obscures thy form. 
Take thou my arm. 

Lo, now we come 
Safe to our home — 
Fireside and home! 



Part" II 

Death's reapers mow 
With measure slow. 
Ah, homeward go! 

Grief's bitter blast 
Is blighting fast 
The mortal mast. 

Celestial forms, 
In myriad swarms, 
Extend their arms. 

Lo, now we come 
To Heaven's home — 
Love, rest, and hornet 



W6ere i£ ^t Home ^ T 



WEere 15 M)/ florae 

♦AY/^i^ismyhome! The winds blow drear, 
W The meadis brown and the leaf is sere, 
The gray clouds drag thru the azure dome. 
Where is my home! Where is my home! 

Is that my home? The dear old place? 
Where sunlight first illumed my face? 
Where childhood joys and childhood tears, 
And parent's love imbued the years? 

Ah no, no more! For all are gone! 
How wearily the years drag on! 
Soon I shall close life's mystic tome, 
Bereft and lone, where is my home! 

My home, dear love, is where thou art. 
I have no other- On thy heart 
I lean and care no more to roam. 
You are my home, my own dear home. 



68 Poe:T22_5 ©"P ^eT2b'r?2e:T2't' 



Yoa Kr20W Wfiy 



, I he day is dull, clouds cold, and drear, 
-*- Hang low in the wintry sky; 
But to me the sky seems always clear, 
My Precious, you know why. 

Let the storm king reign, and the breakers roll,. 

Let the lightning leap on high. 
A calm, sweet peace dwells in my soul, 

I'm happy, you know why. 

Sad, day by day, some trudge life's way, 

And end it with a sigh. 
My limbs are strong, with laugh and song, 

I tread it. You know why. 

Temptations vile beset the while, 

I pass them heedless by. 
Far, free from harm, they have no charm 

For me, Dear, you know why. 



LoVs'e, Ei2Glcir^."OGe 



69 



LoVe's Endurance 



(\\ftTin balmy days of summer, 
Vl/ Clouds conceal the noonday sun. 
Oft the strongest spirits falter 
When the prize is nearly won. 

And, as storm-clouds in the heavens, 

Dim the canopy above, 
So the veil of disappointment 

Shrouds the living light of love. 

But, in gloom of grief and sorrow, 
Love's fires cast a light divine, 

And upon some happy morrow 
Summer's sun is sure to shine. 

Far above the mist and shadow 
Shines the glorious orb of day. 

Thru the night of pain and heartache 
Rays of love-light gleam alway. 



4 1 have asked for the hand of my dear one, 
<2/ my own, 

For those sweet, pretty lips, for that dark 

flowing hair — 
For those eyes that so thrill me— that face 

sweet and fair— 
For that heart, for that life so blended and 

grown 
Into mine it now seems our two souls are as one. 
Pretty moon in the Heavens, bright starlets so 

free, 
Tell me what on the morrow my answer will be. 

Gay stars in the heavens, thy beauty is rare. 
Bright moon, thy face beams with effulgence 

of light, 
As it smiles on the darkness, the stillness of 

night; 
But thy light and thy beauty can never compare 
With the face of my loved one, angelic and fair. 
Pretty moon in the Heavens, bright starlets so 

free, 
Tell me what on the morrow my answer will be. 



The autumn leaves shiver and wilt on the bough. 
The cold breath of winter from northern clime 
Cuts down the green leaflets. Their beauty 

and prime 
Are gone with the gleam of the summer. Oh 

how 
My hearts tender leaflets are shivering now! 
Pretty moon the in heavens, bright starlets so 

free, 
Tell me what on the morrow my answer will be. 

Tell me what on the morrow-of joy or of woe. 
I would rather see pleasure or sink into grief 
Than to suffer such doubt and uncertain reprief . 

My spirit is hopeful. She will not say no! 

My dear little pet could not break my heart so! 

Pretty moon uy in heaven, bright starlets so free, 

Tell me what on the morrow my answer will be. 

The cold bitter morrow! Sleet fell in the night. 

Her answer came early. Her answer was no! 

And now thru life's gloom unto death must I go 
All alone! O'er my spirit this saddening blight. 
Sun nor moon in the heavens-no star do I see: 
How long, oh how long, will the heart breaking be! 



TS P©<£.T2Q5 ©j 5 ^)S.T2t^T22^^.T2't , 



To Tfie St2©W 

Mair offspring of the clouded sky, 
QA Descending thru the wintry night, 
Pray tell me whither do you fly, 

And why you take this frozen flight! 

Can you within your aerial home 

No longer be content to dwell? 
tell me wherefore do you come, — 

And what has wrought this wandering spell. 

0, —gently falling from the cloud, 

And mingling into misty spray, — 
Uniting in one mighty shroud, 

That covers all this world of clay! 

0, beauteous symmetric form, 
Little fairy flakes of snow; 

The blossom of the wintry storm- 
Welcome to our world below! 



To TBe 5tiow 73 

When all the earth is cold and bare, 

Forsaken by its summer growth; 
And frozen wastes lie every where, 

With surface rugged and uncouth, — 

With pliant down you cover o'er— 
Each frozen waste conceal from sight, 

And make the air all fresh and pure, 
The ground all clean and smooth and white* 

Along the lane where oft we trod 
'Mid dusty gale we hoped would cease, — 

O'er deepening mire, or frozen clod — 
We now may find our way in peace. 

And, o'er your smooth and shining form, 

On courser fleet, or cutter light — 
What care we for the wintry storm? 

We ride by day and glide by night. 

The charger leaps his halter's length! 

And fiercely snuffs the wintry air; 
In agony he gains in strength — 

Tethering drives him to despair. 



T4 P0S.T225 oj S<s.n¥\m<s.T2^ 

At length he's free. The rein is slack, — 
Your soft, white cheeks the runners kiss, 

As swiftly o'er the shining track 
We hurl in ecstasy and bliss. 

With antelope leap, with reindeer bound, 
As swallow swift he flies along, 

While striking with his foot the ground, 
In measure with our shout and song. 

And all the while the sleighbells jingle, 

Jingle, jingle, thru the air- 
Shouts and laughter all commingle 

In discordant music rare. 

Such are the pleasures thou hast given 
Thru thy kindly presence here, — 

Welcome visitor from heaven, 
May we oft thy blessings share. 

And when the joys of life have vanished 
Swift before time's fleeting flight, 

may we rest— our labor finished— 
As peaceful as thy bosom white! 



T"B<S. Bf©S,SOT22 evr2et £6<s. Maiel T<1) 



TBe Bto«,^0T2Q anel tfie Mai 3 



♦ I saw a little blossom by the way. 
Qj 'Twas simple, beautiful, and that was all. 
Its scent is borne upon the winds of May, 
It blooms in springtime — withers in the fall. 

I know a pretty maiden, by the way. 

Than she no fairer flower springs from earth 
She sings thruout the gladsome summer day. 

Her beauty lies in pride of modest worth. 

These beauties are alike in certain ways. 

He who observes the best best understands. 
If left unplucked till past their blooming days^ 

Both either fade or fall to other's hands. 



T<9 PoeiT^e, ©J Se-T2tirZ2<SLT2t 

LoVe 1 ^ Re tarn 

1 * I nee more the blossoms bloom 
^-^ O'er meadows sweet and fair. 
Once more the sweet perfume 
Of roses fills the air. 

Once more the golden rays 

Of summer's sun appear. 
Once more the gladsome days 

Of love and joy are here. 

The love that thrills the youth — 

Ambitions that so burn— 
Unto the heart, in truth, 

Thru changing years return. 

And with them joy of spring 

Imbues a newer life. 
And summer's song-birds sing 

Where raged dark storms of strife. 

The heart that throbbed with pain 
From wounds so sorely dealt, 

JSTo longer beats in vain 
Or writhes in anguish felt. 

For love again returns 

And all life's joys renew. 
Emotion's altar burns 

More sacred and more true. 



fl. Rermscl Rose 77 

rH storm, last night, broke down my moth- 

Qj er's rose. 

There, with its petals scattered all around, 
So crushed and torn, and beaten to the ground, 

Lies ruined, mother's best Missouri rose. 

The leaves all mangled, beaten in the earth, 
Have lost all shape of beauty they possessed. 
The branches droop, as prone to lie and rest, 

And show no sign of beauty or of mirth. 

The stem that bore this beauteous gem of June 
Droops low in mourning o'er the dying leaves, 
As though to seek their sympathy, and grieves 

O'er loss of all its beauty all so soon. 

Last evening, sunlight kissed its pretty face, 
And turned its crimson petals still more red. 
How lovingly it drooped its little head! 

How filled with beauty, symmetry, and grace! 

Last evening, zephyrs brushed it as they passed, 
Its tender cheek so lovingly caressed, 
As low it drooped its little head to rest; 

But midnight brought the fierce tornado's blast. 



78 POS1T22Q, ©j 1 5)e"T2tlTZ2€:T2ir 

How like our lives, the rose's life and death! 
How like our fate, the cruel fate that falls 
Upon its happy lot and gruffly calls 

It from its bloom to sudden certain death! 

Yea, brightly beams life's sunlit, joyous tide! 
And softly flow the rippling waves above 
The solemn depths of purity and love. 

Proud pleasure sees the grave stand open wide 



A Li tlfe St^r 

|7ak in the boundless depths of space, 
QA A little star my sight does grace. 
Tho but a tiny speck it seems, 
Which fades away, returns and gleams, 
And casts its light the distance thru, 
As small as tiny drop of dew; 
Although it often hidden lies 
In darkness of the distant skies, 
And lies so long I sometimes fear 
It never will again appear: 
I know that in its distant home, 
From whence those tiny sparkles come, 
A world of light there gleams and glows, 
And ever outward streaming throws 
Its flood of light o'er boundless spheres 
Ten thousand times ten thousand years. 



fl LittfW Star 79 

I know, too, that some mighty power 

Doth move it onward every hour. 

Perhaps, as fast as lightning flies, 

This monstrous orb moves thru the skies, 

And never can for any cause, 

A single moment stop or pause. 

Nor not alone in rapid rate, 

Do single bodies gravitate; 

But billions move thru boundless space, 

The wise creator's plan to grace, — 

All forming one tremendous whole, 

Revolve around some distant sol, 

Which too, perchance, with all its lot, 

Moves round some still more distant spot. 

0, thought of God like light of star, 

That shines upon me from afar! 

0, gleam of faith! 0, ray of light, 

That comes in silent hours of night! 

My soul is lightened 'neath thy ray. 

It hopes, and dreams of dawning day, 

And almost finds within its ken 

The source of light of worlds and men. 



80 Po®:-m$ ©J Se-T2tim<s.nk 

Thy gleam but for a moment shines, 
Then with uncertain mist combines, 
And storms of doubt do then appear, 
Which fill my soul with darkest fear, 
And all is darkness! Thy light gone — 
There's naught to place our trust upon. 
This friend-forsaken, dreary zone, 
Without thee, we must tread alone. 
Thou heedest not. Mankind are cold. 
Hearts suffer pangs unknown, untold. 
Yet all the universe of thought 
We search and search, but find thee not. 
can it be this slender ray, 
Like light of star, so far away, 
Can lead me to the source of light, 
And free my soul from sorrow's night? 
Can mortals rise from sinful sod, 
Unto the living light of God? 
Mankind may live eternities, 
Nor solve all of these mysteries. 



A Tafe of Love 81 



A Tafe @j Love 



* I N a drear, entangled wildwood, 
^ Close beside a flowing streamlet, 
Where the tall trees cast their shadow 

O'er its tiny troubled wave; 
There beneath the spreading branches 
Of the Oak tree and the Yew tree, 
Wrapped in sunshine or in shadow, 

Lies a lonely, quiet, grave. 

No inscription stands upon it, 
Wrought in granite or in marble, 
To rehearse the deeds of heroes 

Done by him who lieth there; 
Not a blossom in the springtime, 
Placed by loving hands upon it, 
Not a tear is shed in sorrow — 

Not a mourner breathes a prayer. 



82 P©S.T2Q$ of -Se.T2ti"m<gn2t 

Yet, some years ago, 'tis spoken, 
Strewn with blossoms was the hillock, 
Drenched with tears of bitter sorrow, 

All the earth upon her mould; 
And each day beside the water, 
Sat a maiden sorely grieving, 
With a heart that burst in anguish. 

Now, alas, that heart is cold! 

Now upon the mound which covers, 
Grows the green-brier of the forest, 
There the rude and thorny thistle 

Spreads its leaves the vines among; 
And the insects of the forest, 
When the sun is near its setting, 
In their homes upon the branches, 

Sing their evening, woodland song. 

Years ago, it has been spoken, 
Loved a youth a pretty maiden, 
And he wooed her in life's morning, 

But his wooing was in vain; 
For the maiden, foolish hearted, 
For the maiden, fair and fickle, 
Scorned the smiles that would have won her, 

And she gave her lover pain. 



A Tafe oj LoVe 83 

Roamed he over land and ocean, 

In his sorrow, till his anguish 

Drove him back to scenes of childhood, 

To the birthplace of his love; 
Strolled he over fields and meadows, 
By green rows of bushy hedges, 
'Long the winding, lonely river, 

Thru the quiet, shady grove. 

On one evening, in the wildwood, 
When the moon had cast the shadow 
Of the branches o'er the figure 

Of the lover, lost and lone: 
Glittered bright a jeweled poniard, 
Glittered in the tufted shadow, 
Then it plunged into his bosom, 

"Lay me here: my life is done." 

Gushed the blood from out his bosom, 
Blood of streaming, flowing crimson, 
And it covered all the grasses 

With its warm, ensanguined rain; 
Sank the body unto kneeling, 
Then upon the grass reclining, 
Passed the spirit from its prison, 

Freed the body from its pain. 



84 P©e:-r22§ of 5>ST2tlT22SlT2t 

Close they dug a grave beside him, 
Near the water of the streamlet, 
There beneath the waving branches, 

Laid the weary lover low; 
While so softly from the bushes, 
Songs of birds in tuneful mourning, 
Mingled into sweetest music 

With the water's rhythmic flow. 

Then the maiden knew her error, 
Then she found she loved him dearly, 
And she mourned in bitter sorrow 

O'er the lover she had pained; 
On each morn, or noon, or even, 
Sat she by the flowing streamlet, 
Pouring forth her heart's deep anguish 

While the tears of sorrow rained. 

Long she brooded o'er her sorrow, 
Back and forth she trod the pathway, 
As the evening cast its shadow 

Or the morning sun arose; 
Till her soul had sunk in sadness, 
Till her thread of life was broken, 
Then across the lonely hillock, 

Lay in lasting, sweet repose. 



Jo^ a.T23 Sorrow 8i) 

She was buried close beside him. 
Thus our Tale of Love is ended. 
Sad the story when we realize 

How often it is true. 
Maiden, when you have a lover, 
Manifest the love you cherish. 
Men have hearts that can be broken! 

Men are made, or marred by you! 



Jo^/ 802(3. Sorrow 



♦ I here's driftwood on the lightest waves that 
-*- blow, 

And worthless mud in deepest depths below. 
Yet purest pearls upon the surface ride, 
And priceless gems lie far beneath the tide. 
Rich treasures with the worthless sands do toss. 
We everywhere find mingled gold and dross. 
So whether we sail high or sink below, 
We find some joy, some sorrow, where we go. 



86 Foe. "me, ©j 5 Se:T2tii^2sr.72t 



iff Deaffi ra ffie NigfilT 



♦ I he wild night was dark, and the loud winds 
-L were calling, [flown 

The ground was a dark sea with water o'er 
For all the day long the cold rain had been fall- 
ing, 
And Nature her gloomiest aspect had shown. 

No star ever offered to light up my pathway, 
No beam from the moon to my rescue did come, 

While I rode thru the midst of the storm and the 
darkness. 
Where sorrow had blighted a prosperous home^ 

I rode to a home that was heavily clouded 
With poverty, sickness, and sorrow and care 

And strove to remove the deep gloom that o'er 

shrouded, [spair. 

And lift the poor souls from the depths of de- 

Oh, dense was the darkness! Oh, fearful the 

flashing [between! 

Of lightning, with peals of hoarse thunder 

And he died in the night; mid the wild tempest's 
dashing; 

And Death, like a pall covered over the scene! 



$\$.zim™ Poem 

\ A / hen sunshine's soft, effulgent ray, 
** * Beams on our path in life, 
When peace and plenty fill our day, 
And nations have no strife, 

When smiling industry the land 

With wealth has covered o'er, 
And God and Nature hand in hand 

Unite to fill our store, 

We're wont to close our eyes and dream, 

And bask in luxury's glow, 
And leave unthought life's loftiest theme— 

Unknown man's noblest work below. 

But they who stoop to humble toil, 

And tread life's lowly way, 
Who grovel in the dusty soil 

For sustenance each day, 



88 Positms, o'J ^eT2-ti ni^jok. 

Who fell the forest, clear the land, 
And build up homes for men— 

With brawny arm and sinewy hand 
Redeem the swamp and fen— 

Who wield the hammer, lay the tie 

The engine rushes o'er — 
Who build the mighty ships that ply 

From ocean shore to shore— 

Who do life's labor— do life's good — 
Who know its hardships, these 

Full well have known and understood 
Life's stern realities. 

And there are those of sadder fate, 

Tho not by toil oppressed, 
Whose lives are lone and desolate— 

Whose minds in wild unrest 

Are brooding over worldly loss, 
Of health, or wealth, or worth, 

Till all life's pleasures seem as dross, 
And naught but grief on earth. 



And those there are by sorrow worn, 

With spirits sad and low, 
By friends bereft, by lover lorn— 

No happiness can know. / 

But all life's pleasures o'er and past, 
The future cold and drear — 

No rest can come until at last, 
The end drawn kindly near— 

The weary heart no more repines, 
But rests in peaceful home. 

Ah these read e'en between the lines 
Of life's deep, mystic tome. 

And only those who do, who feel, 
Who share the world's dark strife, 

May know the sentiment that's real — 
May live the whole of life. 

Man seldom cares to ease a pain, 

Or lighten human grief, 
Until he feels in heart and brain, 

Demand for self relief. 



90 P0S.T225 of -Ssn^tir^emt' 

From palaces of pomp and power, 
From riches haughty height, 

Comes naught to ease the dying hour, 
Or break a sorrow's blight: 

But those who drudge in poverty, 
And droop in humble living, 

Have learned thru drear adversity, 
The "God-like peace of giving." 

Oh, poverty, and penury! 

The world is but a school 
Of discipline. Adversity, 

The wielder of the rule! 

Man travels on life's stormy way, 

Some phantom to pursue, 
Long hour by hour, and day by day, 

He plods the journey thru. 

Some trip along with laugh and song, 
Thru all its golden treasure; 

Some deeply thoughtful of its wrong, 
Can grasp nor know its pleasure. 



ifTfarrmi Poem 91 

And yet we find in hopes and dreams, 

In wayward Fancy's flight, 
Some momentary joy. It seems, 

For souls in sorrow's night; 

Tho burdened down by ceaseless care. 

Tho wrapped in hopeless grief, 
In sweet forgetf illness there are, 

Sweet seasons of relief. 

Adown the wave of Lethe's stream 

Full many an aching pain, 
Shall vanish in some pleasant dream, 

Till reason dawn again. 

How haply, as the world rolls on, 

With all its ceaseless strife, 
We in its bosom find this boon, 

This lapsing lull of life! 

Ah, rest! Ah, dreams! By night or day, 

When fancies musing stroll, 
When all our cares flee far away, 

And peace dwells in the soul! 



92$ P©<S:T22§ O^ -Se.T2tlT22S:T2't' 

I oft have thought, in quiet hours, 

Of gladsome, golden days, 
When seeking for the fairest flowers 

Along life's lovely ways, 

When in the spring I musing strolled 

In nature's sweet commune, 
Mid all her beauties, rich and old — 

And music, ah no tune 

Can from the cultured human voice, 

Or instrument be wrung, 
To make the thrilling heart rejoice 

Like that by Nature sung. 

The while the gentle zephyrs played 

With treetops over head, 
And kissed the flowerets in the glade, 

And thru the forest fled, 

The playful squirrel frisked glad and free, 

Among the branches high, 
The woodchuck pecked the olden tree, 

The hare hopped quickly by, 



£[£0.122121 Posits 93 



And while the murmuring streamlet toyed 

With willows drooping low; 
Where close beside the wildfowl joyed 

In floating to and fro, 

When nature to my raptured view, 

Her inward beauties brought, 
Ah deeply did the scene imbue 

A sweetly pleasant thought: 

That smoothly as the graceful swan 
Does o'er the streamlet glide, 

As softly as the purling brook, 
Flows on to meet the tide, — 

As lightly as the evening breeze, 
As cheerful and as free, 

Might flow the tide of human kind- 
Might live Humanity. 



94 POS.T22S ©J SsiT2tlT2261T2t' 



Di3 G©3 Msd^e Ssvfan? 

■id God make Satan? In this world of 
(5^-^ peace, 

Of pristine purity, of light and joy, 
Bloom knew no blight and pleasure no alloy — 
Did He create the demon of caprice? 
Create the strife that never more can cease? 
The conflicts that our lives do so annoy? 
Why send the subtle serpent to decoy? 
why let cruel wrong and crime increase? 
Souls burst in anguish, fond hearts break with 
grief; 
Grim Death despoils the noblest work of life; 
Men struggle, fall, crushed as the withered leaf, 

And writhe in sable storms of bitter strife. 
Did'st Thou, God, create the evil one? 
Give man, we pray Thee, strength to stand 
alone! 



Sor2T2<d: It2 Rcferra jW FfoWsr^ 9i) 



So-oTiet in relxirn |or Ff ©Wer^ 



♦1 JEAR classmate, friend, kind sympa- 
(5^-^ thetic soul, 

You cannot know what solace you have given. 

You cannot know how deep my heart is riven, 
With grief that human balm can ne'er condole. 
My mind it seems no longer has control. 

This bursting heart so hopelessly has striven. 

Alas, it seems that soon I shall be driven, 
Despairingly to desecrate life's whole: 
Yet by these, tender blossoms I am told, 

Some friends are true, some hearts are nobly 
kind. 
Not all the world is evil, cruel, cold— 

The good still lives as gracious God designed: 
Yet why this grief that will not be consoled! 

This cruel anguish in the heart confined! 



96 Poe:T22§ of S^n\j\r22s.n\! 



No Panacea 

♦ I here is not an universal panacea for all ills. 

- 1 - Men have suffered, do and ever will below. 

Every hour that dawns upon us with its grief 

some bosom fills; 

Every moment fills some heart with bitter woe. 

While the days go by, and seasons lap the ever- 
during years, 
While the long and dreary ages roll away, 
Rolls the tide of human sorrow, ever onward 
thru the fears 
Of night, thru drear December, and thru May. 

Thruout every land and nation, on the bosom of 
the earth, 
Surge the raging storms of passion to and fro, 
While around like glare of lightning leaping 
wildly in its mirth, 
Soul-consuming flames of anguish shed their 
glow. 

No there is no panacea. Man can live but to 
endure, 
Every pang that fills his being, every pain, 
And every heartache— they can serve but to in- 
ure 
Him to bearing what he oft has borne, again. 

Tho there is no panacea, we a palliative find 
In discharge of conscious duty here below. 

Man can have a hell, or heaven in the mansion 
of his mind 
As he chooses of life's weal or of its woe. 



To EffsL 



97 



ID 



To EffaL 



EEP in the silence of thy lonely tomb! 
So dark and cold thy^narrow bed of 
clay! 
Shut out from ail the world, ruthless doom, 
To take thee thus from life and love away! 

A life so bright, so happy, thus to close! 

A love like thine to fade away so soon! 
A blooming flower borne down by winter snows, 

A smiling sun eclipsed before its noon. 

Thou wert so happy here, all joys of earth 
Seemed centered in thy being. Thou hadst 
health, 

And beaming beauty, and true worth, 
And loving kindness— a world of wealth! 



98 PoSlT2Q5 ©1 5>6rT2tir2^SlT2't 

Oft have I seen thee when the blooming flowers 
Waft perfume o'er the merry winds of May, 

On growing meads, or in sweet, shady bowers, 
All decked in roses blooming bright and gay,. 

Or, in thy pleasant home, at cheerful duty, 
Sing songs of mirth to lessen Mother's care,. 

And gladden father with thy grace and beauty,. 
And make of home a blissful heaven there. 

From maiden modesty to childish joys, 
I trace thee back thru life's unclouded way, 

When playful children with thee — girls and boys 
Danced in the sunlight of youth's happy May. 

But few brief hours of happiness and life, 
Until there came the latest struggling breath. 

A season sad of suffering and strife; 
Then all was o'er! Mysterious darkness,. 
Death! 

Oh, cruel doom, that life so young and fair, 

Ephemeral like, should live but one brief 
day— 

That all thy charms, and beauty, rich, and rare, 
Fade as the rose: and as quickly droop away!. 



To Effa. 99 

The fair, sweet flowers from welcome hope that 
sprung, 

All withered as her life ebbed slow away, 
While those of love, more fragile, grew more 
strong, 
As nourished by their death and swift decay. 

The flower of love will flourish in a woe, 
That blights e'er they disclose, more fragile 
flowers: 
Tho strong the wind, adversity, may blow— 
Tho ceaseless rage and dash grief's scalding 
showers. 

The brightest beauty fades with early dawn. 

The fairest flower droops first before the frost: 
Alike the rarest rose upon the lawn, 

So thou, bright flower of love, art early lost. 



100 POS1T22Q, ©J / Ssn2tl722€:T2'lr 



* \ A / ERE you ever on ^ e wa ^ er 

^ * In the dark? 
Skimming o'er the sparkling wavelets 

In the dark? 
On the midnight water boating, 

Never noting 

Where you're floating, 
Just a boating and a floating — 

In the dark? 
Living is like boating 

In the dark. 
On the tide of time we're floating 

In the dark. 
Some a riding, some a rowing, 

None a knowing 

Where we're going, 
Just a riding, and a rowing 

In the dark. 



Ra-ngfero, 101 



Ra 



T2 



g^ r S 



* j—\ few days ago we saw somebody coming. 
QJ -*- The carriage was covered with white. 
A fine span of dark colored, sleek looking donkeys 
Drew briskly their load as if light. 

E'er long they approached us, we saw they were 
strangers, 

And had 'neath their canvas a load, 
A load of these lofty-priced, wrought iron 
"ranges." 

They halted their team in the road, 
And after a gladsome and cordial greeting, 

They drew neath the shade of the grove. 
They seemed to be overly glad of the meeting. 

They wanted to sell us a stove. 



102 P©(Sir225> ©J ^5S:T2'hT72S:T2ir 

So neat and well dressed were our two smiling 
strangers, 
With oily black hair on each head. 

We think that their business is swindling 
grangers. 
Like their mules, they were sleek, and well 
fed. 

The tall one addressed us, first mentioned the 
weather, 

Then spoke of the prospects for grain. 
The farmers were happy and prosperous whether 

The merchant met losses or gain. 

The farmers, he said, being all independent, 

Were happiest people he knew. 
And gave as a cause of their being transcendent 

Their honesty carried them thru. 

He also believed, tho 'twas most in defiance 

Of right to the class he belonged, 
That in an assembly of Farmer's Alliance 

The worthiest citizens thronged. 

In short, of the farmers and all of their dealings, 

He ever had heartily approved. 
When anything happened to injure their feelings 

He also was painfully moved. 



Refers 103 

Yes, he loved the farmers, but what is that 
clashing, 

Which seems all the ether to move? 
The stove lids together our agent is dashing 

To show us the strength of his stove. 

The tea-kettle, coffee pot, skillet and frying pan 
Scatters he over the grove. [ing-man 

To show us the strength of the metal, our ly- 
Jumps on the edge of his stove. 

The moulding is perfect. He said it o'er often. 

'Tis lined with asbestos he cries. [coffin 

That's the kind of a lining he'll need for his 

When, done with ill dealing, he dies. 

Both made quite a speel, 

So of course we must buy; 
Tho their steel was all steal, 

And the price mountain high, 
We just bit, being mossy backed grangers. 

But talk is so cheap! 
And agents will lie, 
And I fear we shall weep, 

As the days go by, 
For the money we spent for those "rangers." 



104 P©e:T22$ of 5>®lT2t'iT2Qe.T2t' 



rfift, w% N©r w e ? 

■ear Love, where the soft winds round 
<o^-^ me blow 
And wave the boughs above, 
Where the tufts of shadows to and fro, 

O'er the soft, green grasses move, 
Today I sit and think of you, 
And dream of home and love. 

Here a brook flows free thru a grassy dell, 

I am sitting by its side. 
And its song so sweet on my ear doth dwell, 

In the sunny summer-tide. 
Oh, Love, such rapture could not swell 

My soul, were love denied! 



5T20AV 105 

Here blossoms bloom, a damasked bower, 

Just at my side is near 
With odors sweet, golden hour, 

The gladdest of the yeai ! 
I wish, sweet, pretty little flower, 

My precious, you were here! 

The birds are here in the noon-day sun, 

They twitter up in the tree. 
Some sing in the sun their merry tune, 

Some flit thru the shade so free. 
They love each other this dreamy June, 

They love,— Oh, why not we? 



JSnow 

* \ X /hat saintly visitor in silent night 

*/ * Has called and robed the world in spot- 
less white? 
What mute descendant of the murky skies 
Thruout the ether hither thither flies! 



106 Po®:r2a,s ©J S^ntim^nt 



Retxrrrceel 



^\— I ow glad the heart when some bright joy 
_J I returns! 

How pleasant when the sun smiles, warm and 
bright, 

And fills the world with beauty and with light! 
What soothing solace to the heart that yearns! 
How glad indeed when some dear friend returns! 

Whose absence drew about the gloom of night, 

Whose presence fills each moment with delight, 
And keeps aglow the souPs warm fire that burns. 
Ah, how some faces beam with beauty's worth! 

And charm all eyes that love the pure and 
strong. 
There is no costlier gift on all the earth, 

And men will love it long, long, so long! 
Most truly, if these eyes were made for seeing, 
Bright beauty need seek no excuse for being. 



Peeme, ©J ^ena^m^n^ 10T 



GrsvtifaSe 



\ A / HAT wor( ^ s can now express, or pen por- 

^ V tray, 

The gratitude I feel? lovely flowers! 

By kindly spirits sent to cheer these hours 
That drag so slowly, wearily, away ! 
words how weak, if but my heart could say 

What bounds within its depths, had pulses 
powers [bowers 

Of speech — souls utterance* soon celestial 
Would gladden with the music of my lay. 
Kind, generous hearts, dear friends so good and 
true, 

Unselfish souls, for such are truly thine, 
The noblest deeds the human hand can do, 

Which thru the world the longest, brightest 

shine [you; 

Are those that gladden hearts, may God bless 

You have this day brought happiness to mine. 



108 P©eiT22Q, ©j* ^)®:T2tlT22S:T2t 



Mj/ Pe^ft 



T22e 



I begin my hour with reading, 
^ Thinking deeply as I read, 
Over what the author teaches 

And his theme; 
Till my thoughts o'erflow my vision 

And I grasp my pen with speed, 
To assay the truth in prose 

As it does seem. 

Reading on and thinking deeply, 
Half unwittingly I scrawl 

Thoughts — additions— oppositions- 
Till my prose, 

Moving slowly and in rhythm, 
Is no longer prose at all; 

But unconsciously in blank verse 
Freely flows. 

Then the rhythm moves more freely, 

Pulsing measures chance to chime, 
Themes more beautiful and brighter thoughts 

Appear. 
And I leave my good philosophy 

And lilt along on rhyme, 
Thru the sunshine, while my muses 

Dally near. 



^>OT2T2®:t': To ex. Mof4.T2-tex.ir2 109 



JSoTiiief: To a JVloantsu'ra 



I > 1 crude, stupendous mass, of rugged mould, 
^-^ . Huge emblem of the adamantine past, 

My finite being shudders, stands aghast, 
Thy ponderous proportions to behold! 
Deep in thy bowels lay treasured wealth of gold, 

And radium, but these can ne'er be classed 

As treasures. Thy true riches are enmassed 
In the majesty, the grandeur we behold. 
Let truth, like thee, eternal, ever stand. 

Let virtue as exalted ever be, 
And firm as those stone cliffs sublime and grand 

Let faith endure thruout eternity. 
cloud-cleft summit, piercing thru the skies, 
Show mankind, higher, nobler destinies. 



110 Posies, oj S^Titimemt 

T€e Mafri-JVWtyr 

♦ I o the wilds of western prairies, 
-*- Once upon an early day, 
Fled a hunted, hated martyr 
From pursuers far away. 

From the land of fair New England, 
Where they doubted his belief, 

He had journeyed to the westward. 
Seeking freedom and relief. 

From the village of his father, 
From the happiness of home, 

From his loved ones and his sweethearts 
He was forced to go and roam. 

Till at last foot-sore and weary, 
Safe from those who did pursue, 

For a while he sought sweet refuge 
In the village of Nuavoo. 

There he married thirty wives 
And every wife became a mother. 

He became a multi-martyr: 
Which was worse, the which or 'tother? 



PosiT^ie, ©j* -SsmtiT^enatf 111 



TBe S^eLpfo-Msv-m^e 



% 



know no joy or grief in life. 
^ I know no future— heaven — hell — 
Nor love, nor fear, nor ease nor strife, 
I know nor care not, ill or well, 

Of health or wealth, or joy or grief, 
Of good or ill — of weal or woe— 

And know that I am past relief 
By aught the future could bestow. 

A wanderer without abode, 
To trudge alone life's thorny way 

And bend and ache beneath my load 
A bruised and barren piece of clay. 

A mind blase, a calloused soul, 
A heart unwarmed by love's desire, 

A tasteless draught in broken bowl — 
No hope more bright than funeral pyre. 

Blest souls, whose eyes perceive the way, 
To faith and duty, truth and right, 

Cease not your efforts, toil and pray 
Till every soul can see the light. 



IIS POS1T2QQ, ©J S®iT2tiT22e.T2t' 

^fl Q&nzxnAvzxm: 

T"Be. Nigjgjer eu2<il T"6<s: G"6ig-<jjs:-r 



3 



F the digger of a chigger 

Should stay, 
In the figger of a nigger 

For a day: 
Would the chigger be the digger, 
Or the digger be the nigger 

Do you say? 

If the digger of a chigger 

Should stay, 
In the figger of a nigger 

All day; 
Would the nigger be the bigger 
Or the bigger be the chigger, 

Which way? 

If the digger of a chigger 

Should stay, 
In the figger of a nigger 

All way: 
Would the figger be a chigger 
With the figger of a nigger 
Or the nigger with the digger 

Of a chigger? 
Go way! 



ft 5©T2gf of QaiVsra. 113 



| \ | ye green leaves and ye branches, 
Vlx That surround my rural cottage, 
How the effluence of thy beauty 
Fills the eyes that gaze "upon thee! 
0, ye morning rays of sunlight, 
Flooding o'er the hills and tree tops, 
How ye smile adown the valleys, 
Rich with glow of sparkling dew drops! 
How ye drive away the shadows — 
How ye light the lovely landscape! 
0, ye fill my heart with gladness, 
As ye beam from out the heavens! 
How I love the morning freshness! 
How I love the light and shadow! 

There is joy within the sunlight 
That beams o'er the fields and meadows. 
There is beauty on the landscape, 
Where all nature's scenes are glowing. 



114 POS.T22S, of ^5SlT2t'iT22SlT2-lr 



Come and list, the heart that's aching 
Longer cannot feel its anguish: 
Come and list, in nature's teachings, 
Thou canst find a soothing solace. 
Life and love shall be requited. 
And the soul find sorrow ceasing. 

Sweetest voice of breathing zephyrs, 
Singing, floating thru the sunlight; 
Kissing cheeks of fairest blossoms; 
All aglow with beams of lovelight; 
Ye have soothed my heartfelt sadness, 
Ye have filled my soul with music, 
Now within me, soft strains echo, 
Pulsing, waving, thru my bosom. 

Among the hills where grew sweet blossoms 
Of the fair land of Quivera, 
Where the morning rays of sunshine 
Kissed with softest touch the landscape, 
Bathed all in a flood of dewdrops, 
There mid scent of sweetest blossoms 
Borne adown the slopes and valleys 
By the balmy breeze of summer; 
There where nature smiled upon them, 
With her smile so pure and lovelike, 



f[ ,Soi2gj of QaiVem 11© 



Lived a grandsire old and feeble 

And his young and fair granddaughter. 

They had lived alone together 

Since his old, loved wife departed; 

All alone, while in the valley 

Lovely wild flowers bloomed around them. 

Drear, and dull had been life's story 
To the old man old and feeble, 
For his days were full of sorrow, 
And his aged heart was broken, 
Sadly broken, so forever 
Doomed was he to grief and sadness. 

On the morning, in the sunlight, 
In the noontide, or in even, 
Mourned he in deep tones of anguish, 
"Let me die, my heart is broken." 
Thus the old man, weak and trembling, 
Thru the years bemoaned his sorrow. 

Thru the happy hours of childhood, 
She had lived with buds and blossoms; 
She had breathed the breath of springtime, 
And the scented air of summer 
With perfume of roses laden. 



116 Poei-me, ©J S<s.n{jm&.n)£ 

Like the buds her years were tender. 
Like the birds, her heart was happy; 
And her soul was like the zephyrs— 
Sweet, and pure and filled with music. 
She had grown alike the blossoms, 
That she plucked from out the meadow. 
Her soft cheek wore purer color 
Than the blushing rose of summer; 
And her breath was filled with fragrance 
That surpassed all floral sweetness. 

Thus the charming little maiden, 
In her childlike grace and beauty, 
Filled her grandpa's house with lovelight 
While the years they passed together. 
She would hold his hand so shrunken, 
With her own and kiss it softly, 
With the words, — "I love you grandpa." 
And her voice was sweet and tender. 
She would climb unto his bosom, 
Place her childlike arms about him; 
And she drove out many sorrows 
With her deeds of loving kindness. 
But, his spirit sorely wounded, 
Since his life-love had departed, 
Ne'er spoke he in tones of gladness — 
Lifted e'en his voice to heaven— 
For his heart with grief was broken, 
And he longed to sleep beside her. 



&{ Song oj" QaiVs-ra. 117 

Little Grace, come sit beside me. 
Grandpa's heart is sad and lonely. 
Let him see your smile of sunshine, 
Let him hear your girlish laughter, — 
Soothe his heart with strains of music; 
Lift your voice in tones of gladness, 
Grandpa's weak his limbs are trembling. 
Grandpa's heart is sad and lonely. 
Let me hold you, daughter Grade, 
On my knee so stiff and shrunken; 
Let these fingers old and trembling 
Hold your hands, so soft and snow-white. 
Come and hear your grandpa's story; 
Soothe his old heart sunk in sorrow, 
For his life is near its closing: 
Soon his old heart beats no longer; 
Soon will close his years of sorrow. 
In his arms she heard his story. 
Gazing up so meek and childlike, 
Her young heart was touched with pity 
By his words so sadly spoken. 

Long, and sad indeed his story, 

He has trudged life's rugged pathway 



118 Poermo, of -SenQtiT^s.-rat' 



Thru its dark, and dreary places, 

Strewn with thorns and rudest thistles. 

He had towered in heights of glory 

While a nation gazed upon him — 

Had been torn away in exile— 

Dragged into a dreary dungeon. 

He had supped life's purest pleasure, 

He had drank its dregs of sorrow; 

Dearest things before him perished: 

Now his happiness was over! 

And as evening cast its shadow, 

He beside the fireside drooping, 

Sat and told his doleful story, 

Till his voice could speak no longer. 

Little Grace, so pure and lovely, 
On his knee sat sweetly singing 
Songs her grandma used to sing him 
When their years were young and tender. 
Sang she in sweet girlish accents, 
Songs of home, and hope and heaven. 

She had wealth of golden tresses 
Loosely flung about her shoulders, 
Eyes as mild and pure as starlight— 
Smile as sweet as rays of heaven. 
Then she sang of scenes around her — 
Songs of birds and woodland music — 



ft -Sot2(J of QaiVera 119 



Sang of wild flowers that were blooming 
Down beside the murmuring streamlet. 
All of nature seemed unto her 
Singing forth in songs of gladness, 
And she breathed sweet strains of music 
Till she soothed his soul-felt sadness; 
And he said, "my heart is lighter" 
Now my life is free from sorrow. 
Close unto his heart he pressed her, 
While his soul dwelt in its solace. 
And his old face beamed with gladness 
And the evening gathered round him. 

Thus within the twilight, fading, 
Drooped his head upon her shoulder. 
Kindly Nature soon had borne them 
To the land of peaceful slumber: 
And the gray locks intermingled 
With the silken curls, all golden. 

Evening closes, and the morning 
Dawns upon the grandsire sleeping. 
Peaceful sleep that knows no waking 
On this side of death's calm river. 
All around the birds are singing- 
Breezes blowing— branches waving, 
And the wildflowers still are blooming, 
On the hills of Fair Quivera. 



120 P0S.T225 oj ^><s.n\:inr2^:r2^ 



To Oar Sote[ie:T\s it2 Btae 



^ | he billows of war are turned back from the 
J- strand. 

Now the day-dream of peace lulls the soul 
into slumber. 
The red hand of strife is at rest in the land, 
And our souls unto God breathe in prayers 
without number. 

The sharp pangs at parting from those whom 
we cherished 
Are eased, and our bosoms may peacefully rest. 
Our prayers and our tears for the dear ones who 
perished. 
All praise unto God whom our cause has so 
blest. 

The fair isle of Cuba lay prostrate in grief, 
Her liberty strangled by Spain's tyrant hand; 

But our brave boys rushed manfully to the relief 
And now she stands free as our own blessed 
land. 



To Ozit Sofaie^s m B£W 121 

To the flower of our hope, to our soldiers in blue, 
A welcome, glad welcome, again to our home. 

All honor and glory forever be due. 

In triumph our conquering heroes have come. 

*Tis enough, we have peace, and our brave boys, 
before us, 
Return to the hearts who have loved them so 
true. 
Triumphant they bear that proud flag, stream- 
ing o'er us. 
All hail to the cause of the Red White and 
Blue! 



Yum ,s n.m<B.TiC 

Is it not a great deal wiser, 
Crimes and vices to prevent, 

Than to try to cure their evil 
By inflicting punishment? 

Let us educate the people. 

Teach divine, and human law. 
Then our prisons will be churches - 

Human action know no flaw. 



122 PoeT22S oj 5 ^eT2tlT22e.T2i 




Ofi Gan I Wait! 



4 |H can I wait until that distant day! 

The sluggard moments, how they drag 
away, 
And, lagging, loitring, seem to laugh with glee 
Because of my impatience! Dear Marie, 
The end of time seems nearer than the date. 
I cannot, oh it seems I cannot, wait! 

Oh can I wait! It will be long, so long 
E'er we may stand before the listless throng, 
And I to all the world proclaim my own 
Marie to be my wife! Life is so lone 
Without you! I rebel! I challenge fate. 
I cannot no I will not longer wait! 



06 Gena I Wait! 123 



Blow, blow ye winds, and beat the sail's broad 

side; 
Blow, blow, and bring to me my happy bride. 
Plow, sturdy ship, in haste the rugged sea 
And bear unto my breast my sweet Marie. 
E'en as my own heart bounds to meet its mate 
Bound o'er the sea and bring thy precious 

freight; 
Haste, haste, oh ship! I cannot cannot wait! 

Days, weeks go by and silent sleeps the sea. 
Hope's sun sinks low. No ship comes back to 

me. 
The gray gull soars above the silent deep 
Within whose lonely depths my love doth sleep. 
I yieldSat last, cold relentless fate! 
Alas! alas! For I must wait! Forever wait! 



124 Pe>€:-m$ OJ 5 ^)©T2tlT22©T2-t' 



Devotion 



* Ms the 



white-crested waves, in unceasing 
(0/ J- commotion, 

Imploringly, vainly reach up to the sky, 
So our hearts, ever true, in unending devotion, 

Reach out to each other as years hurry by. 



fl Taf e of Woe 

♦ I F in my brain one faculty I find 
(2/ Superior to Von Helmont's seat of mind, 
If from my source of intellectual power 
Comes aught but fog and mist in murky shower, 
If thru my mental sky, so dull and dark, 
A fissure break, emitting one lone spark 
Of thought, the story I relate is true; 
If tiresome, please forbear, 'twill soon be thru. 



fl Taf e. oj Woe 125 

One gloomy eve, the sky o'er head was dull, 

And full of mist and gloom, the moon, half full, 

Slow struggling thru the cold, black wintry cloud, 

But half lit up earth's snowy, frozen shroud. 

The wind, sad-moaning thru the forest near, 

Bore doleful music to my pensive ear, 

And all of nature's light and warmth seemed 
flown; 

Her very gloomiest aspect was her own. 

Affected by the scene and half dismayed, 
In heavy mood unconsciously I strayed 
Thru-out the dismal night, and aimlessly, 
Nor knowing not nor caring where I'd be, 
When suddenly there fell upon my ear 
A voice, a voice to me forever dear. 
A friend whom I had known and loved in youth, 
As truly as one loves who loves the truth, 
Stood there beside me but within a pace. 
The moon shone out and lighted up his face. 
I saw beneath the moon's soft shimm'ring rays, 
A face which beamed with smiles in earlier days, 



1S<9 Po&T22«, ©J Sk.r2tiT22e.nk 

All wrinkled now and furrowed with dull care, 
I gazed upon the traces of despair 
In utter consternation, then I spoke, 
And in the gloom the awful silence broke. 

Why is it, friend, that thus I find you here? 
Has fate reduced you thus a wanderer? 
where that form in friendship's clasp so oft 
We've met — that face — those cheeks so full and 

soft, 
Those sparkling eyes, in beauteous lustre shone— 
where the youth and health that were your 

own? 

Sad thought had worn him proof to all surprise. 
He raised his head and quietly his eyes 
Were fixed in steady gaze upon my own, 
And thus he spoke in sad and solemn tone: 



Dear friend, forever kind and true, 
My sorrows I reveal to you. 
May they upon your mind impress 
The magnitude of my distress, 






fl TafW ©J Woe 127 

And may they for an hour adorn 
Thy memory of a friend forlorn. 
My trouble-laden soul must find 
Some friend that's trusty, true and kind 
To bear with it its heavy load 
Along life's joy-forsaken road, 
And now with pleading voice I ask 
At least your sympathy in the task. 

If in my sorrow I should roam 
Away from parents, friends and home, 
And waste a life of usefulness, 
In vice and sin and wickedness, 
And finally in frantic mood 
At suicide pour out my blood, 
Or at some river's lonely side 
Submerge myself beneath the tide, 
Remember that the cause was wrought 
By treacherous fiends, who eager sought 
To steal the treasure of my heart. 
And force my happiness to depart. 



1^8 PoS!T22JS ©J SsnatlT^eiat' 

In this solemn, dreary hour, 

I would to God I had the power 

To wreak on them my vengeance dire, 

I'd thrust them in eternal fire, 

And every bone in every frame, 

Of every carcass of the name, 

And all the flesh that ever grew 

On bones of the accursed crew, 

With pleasure could I see them roast — 

In satisfaction view the toast! 

But these are idle words to say 
When time to act has passed away. 
The day is gone, the deed is done, 
Their treacherous game forever won. 
It matters not how one may grieve, 
The hour is set there 's no reprieve. 

They talk of woman born to weep, 
Man also has that trust to keep, 
And of all causes known on earth, 
By God or devil given birth, 



fl. Tafe ©J Woe 129 

In land or sea, or sky above, 
The foremost of them all is love. 
Ah, helpless man by love once smitten! 
A tender lamb by serpent bitten. 
The poison fangs within thy heart 
Their venom to thy soul impart. 
Alike no helper heeds their cries, 
Or strives to ease their agonies. 
Poor, pitied creatures! Pass them by, 
They can but pine away and die. 
The new-caught tiger in his cage 
Not more than he can storm and rage. 

Such is the work of love's strange spell 
That drives so many souls to hell. 

Pull well I know whereof I speak; 
For I, like other men, am weak 
Before this Goddess, Love divine. 
All mankind worship at her shrine. 
When first before her shrine I knelt 
Oh what ecstatic joy I felt! 



130 Poe:T22$ ©J -Se72tir?2emt 

It seemed there had a new change come 
O'er my surroundings and my home. 
I thought that joy, from heaven's dome, 
Bestowed by angels, was my own, 
And over my whole life was cast 
A sunshine that I thought would last. 

Tho naught with constancy is blest, 
In love there's least of all the rest. 
When all her favors fled so soon, 
'Twas like the sun had set at noon. 
Then, in the gloom, her poison dart 
She thrust into my bleeding heart. 
Staggering backward there I fell 
And suffered more than tongue can tell. 
Love,s arrows ne'er can kill, but then, 
They never fail to ruin men. 
My life was saved. Unholy thing! 
But for it death might freedom bring. 

The blow was more than I could bear, 
And writhing, raging in despair 



fl Teif s ©J Woe 131 

Oblivious to the good and pure, 

In depths of night, by ways obseure, 

I, wend my god-forsaken way 

To haunts where once I strolled by day, 

In those loved days when fife was May. 

Obscured beneath the shadowed wall, 

Bemoan my sad disgraceful fall, 

And sit beneath the clouded skies 

In darkness and soliloquize: 

Debased, degraded, dregs of earth! 
I curse the land which gave me birth, 
And curse the day on which was born 
Such low forsaken wretch forlorn. 
I'm worthless now as so much soil, 
And trod as much in life's turmoil. 
In my own heart my sin I feel 
Full cognizant, I know it well. 

Ah well, I was not always so! 
My tale, all told, is full of woe, 
And be it known, the time was when, 



13 S Poshes of -Ssmtmaen^'t' 

I ranked among the first young men; 

But fortune changed me and my lot, 

So earth is now a hated spot, 

Which to my life bright joy once brought — 

Gave to me all I asked or sought; 

But now 'tis changed, all joys are gone — 

I'm left to live in grief alone, 

And reap the wrongs by others sown. 

And thoughts of joys of by-gone years 

But fill my eyes with streaming tears, 

And in my heart renew the pain 

That drives me to despair again. 

Oh, hearts once warmed by friendship's fuel, 
Are stabbed by traitors, strong and cruel, 
And links of love, all torn apart, 
Lie broken in each lonely heart. 

Oh fate, when all things else have failed, 
Our hopes all lost— griefs but bewailed — 
Appeals to God and man all lost 
On troubled tempests helpless tossed, 



fl Taf e ©J Woe 133 



Wilt thou not come to mercy given, 
As God or angel straight from heaven, 
Wilt thou not kindly rescue me 
And give me death or liberty? 

Another deed that love has done, 
Another life of pleasure gone! 



He turned and vanished from my sight! 

I knew not where, I knew not why. 
All thru the dim and dreary night 

I called and called, but no reply. 

He was gone! and I feared forever gone; 

So burdened down with grief and care, 
Wandring thru the world alone, 

No friend his lasting grief to share. 

My thoughts were sad as I turned that night 
From vain research to my Mother's door; 

For within my heart it had seemed to blight 
My happiness forever more. 



134 POST225 ©J S)€:i2^\T22S.T2^ 

Oh men and maids the world is full 

Of grief and pain and strife, 
And death at the end, with sickle dull, 

Will reap the grain of life. 

Oh then from our care may we all be free, 

In happy homes above, 
To dwell in peace and harmony, 

Sweet purity and love. 






Ja.sf W% 



* \ A / HEN ^ s °ld world was wisely planned, 
" * By that omniscient power above, 
Just why, I cannot understand, 

He did not more of goodness prove 
And pass decree o'er every land 

That all are loved by those they love. 



Resignation 13i> 



Y^ife's ocean winds impel me on, 
JVo'er seas unsought, unknown. 
My heart's fond treasure lost and gone, 
I drift and drift alone. 

And better thus, since 'round me roll 
Huge billows of dark strife. 

Why should the burden on my soul 
Sink still another life? 

Aye onward drift, however roar 

The furies of the deep. 
A few more days, life's sorrow o'er, 

We all may rest and sleep. 

Oh Mother come again to me 
And soothe my aching breast! 

Oh Father hold me on your knee! 
My bosom yearns for rest. 



136 P©eiT22,S ©J -SeiT2tlT?2S:T2t' 



TBe: Logj-Booi^ 



3T seems our barks have drifted far apart, 
Unpiloted on life's uncertain sea. 
What is the log-book entry in your heart, 
As love and dreamland fade in memory? 

What means the mandate of eternal years, 
That hearts must sink from happiness to woe? 

What is the lesson taught us by our tears, 
As life's dull dirge is sung in measure slow? 

Mine is of sorrow, that life's dearest treasure, 
Requited love, is lost to me for aye — 

Of joy, that still I have the priceless pleasure, 
To worship you and dream the hours away — 

Of hope, that, sometime, o'er life's drear, gray 
ocean, 
Soft winds, weal-leavened, yet may waft our 
sails 
To some secluded harbor of devotion, 
Where love is anchor, and sweet calm prevails. 



J\lo.siT2gs loT 



Mayings 

GBaWqeia Par^., Beatrice, Ne&ra.£^a, 

Juf* 6, 1890 

3 sit beneath the shadow of the grove. 
Around me surge the ever-moving throng. 
Some forty thousand gather here today, 
To hear two orators of world renown. 

Far in the woods the crowds grow thinner till 
But wandring couples here and there are seen, 
Or stragglers lone among the shady trees. 

Tents, too, along the outer park are seen, 
With wife and childred round the open door. 
The husband talks with friends beneath the trees 
And rests in oaken chair or on the ground. 

The grove is large, ten-thousand feet around, 
Well filled with stately trees of many kinds; 
And flags and bunting decorate the trees, 
And bluegrass carpets all the surface o'er. 



138 PoeT2ZS ©J ^5®.T2tlT22SlT2t' 

Two gates, with massive arch most beautiful — , 
The entrance and the exit for the throng. 
Along one side the dark Blue river rolls. 
A graceful bend is made here in the stream, 
Avoiding here a hillock, there a ledge, 
Whose adamantine ribs defy its power. 

Two tiny streamlets, flowing thru the grounds, 
With banks, smooth mown, and bridges here and 

there, 
To thirsty throats yield up their liquid draught; 
And children play beside them all day long. 

The forest trees, by woodman's ax unmarred, 
Display their native beauty, green and grand. 
Youths gayly swing upon their bending boughs 
And age reclines beneath their cooling shade. 

A tall tent stands upon the green hillside. 
Some showmen there display their skill tonight, 
Pant for the fame such tricks can never earn, 
And grasp the mighty dollar first of all. 



Masirags 139 

The thousands crowd beneath the spreading roof, 
Convened from all the country far and near, 
To hear the great divine whose voice and mind 
Have won renown and fame on every land. 
The weaker ones are baffled and turned back, 
Not able long to press against the throng; 
The strong and lofty lift their heads above 
And close the view to all who stand behind; 
With fluffy hats and gaudy plumes galore. 

How much like other animals are men! 
So many men, alas, and women too, 
Acquiring what they wish, they have no care 
For poor down-trodden beings left behind. 

The strong- voiced speaker penetrates each ear, 
And charms each sight till deadly silence falls, 
Then bears each mind with him along the line 
Of thought his intellect has hewn before 
Until he claims their laughter or applause, 
Or drives them into grief and bitter tears. 



140 PoSLT22«, ©f 5)€IT2ti*T22S:T2t' 



They now disperse. The vast commingled throng 
I view to note the faces as they pass. 
Some dreamy, weary, far-off -looking eyes 
Bespeak sad longing for some lifelong aim, 
No more to be accomplished in this life — 
Or deep desire whose burning in the soul 
Thru all the dreary years does never cease! 
Some faces, bright and happy as they pass, 
Show not one trace of sorrow. May the years 
Increase their number, and each forlorn breast 
Soon find a solace that will soothe and heal. 



R Winter Eve"mr2gj 

♦ L_j bright, December day is near its close. 
Qj J- The light is lingering on the western 
hills, 
In dazzling beauty.— How it gleams and glows 
On field and forest! All the air it fills 

With brilliant colors. Meadows broad and brown, 
Are brightened and all glowing in the light, 

And smiling as the beams stoop gently down 
To kiss their cheeks a soft and sweet good night. 



F8L£fiT2g LsaV£5 Ul 



Fevffintf Leaves 



Ihe leaves are falling fast. 
The green soon turns to gray. 
Life, color, beauty past, 
Then death and swift decay. 

The years are flying fast. 

Our heads will soon be gray, 
Ambition, power, past, 

Then comes the final day. 

joy, while joy yet thrills! 

Aye love, while love is ours. 
Procrastination kills. 

Frost withers fragrant flowers. 

Dear Love, e'er eyes grow dim, 
E'er hearts grow strangely cold, 

Pray heed the prayer of him 
Whose grief is unconsoled. 



14 2 P©e"m$ ©j 5 ^5®T2t'i'nr2eT2t' 



Tne SiieT^l RiVer 

♦ I \ Y the side of the silent river, 
(5\_>/ Which moves so tranquilly, 
In its downward course forever, 
I sit and think of thee. 

On the shore of life's wide, drear ocean, 

I pine all alone on the pier, 
With my heart full of deepest emotion 

And longing for you, my Dear. 

And as constant and true in devotion 
As the river's course down to the sea, 

And far deeper indeed than the ocean, 
Is my lasting love of thee. 

Oh the ship of my love seems freighted 

Too heavily to arrive. 
And my hope too dissipated 

Much longer to survive. 



T-Bs Stfeiat River 1^3 



Flown on, silent river! 
Sail home, ship to me! 

For my love is true forever- 
True to eternity. 



GredLiiiaele 



e 



Dear friend, I owe a debt to you today, 
A debt my hand nor heart can e'er repay; 
A debt not paid in gold, were gold in store - 
Can but be paid in love by loving more. 
God bless you, tho we never meet again, 
I cherish you; for you to me have been 
A solace in my soul's dark hour of grief, 
A balm to give a moments sweet relief. 
Good bye, may your trials in life be few! 
Space measures not my gratitude to you. 



144 Poer^e, eff ^e-nftm&nk 



I have too much emotion. The wave of my love 

No limiting sand seems to know, 
But forever moves onward till white cliffs above 

Stem its tense heated tide with their snow. 

And the depth of my hatred no bound ever knew, 

A billow in stormiest sea- 
Maelstrom of destruction— I calm it, 'tis true, 

But it seethes like a caldron in me. 

May I calm every wave that is restless in me, 

Nor to trouble life's voyage again. 
May my love of mankind be as deep as the sea 

And as broad as the breast of the main. 



# H^-m-ra I4I> 



A Hyrnn 

I 4 JH Lord, my soul doth sing Thy praise L 
Vl/ My God, I trust in Thee. 
Show me the light of Christian ways, 
And Christ and purity. 

My way is dark, no light doth shine, 

No solace, no retreat. 
I turn to Thee, God and Thine, 

Guide Thou my wand'ring feet. 

My heart is full of deep unrest, 

My life is void of pleasure. 
are there homes among the blest, 

Of joy in fullest measure? 

are there homes where sorrows cease, 

And mortal ills dissever? 
Where weary souls may dwell in peace 

And joy and rest forever? 

My God, I seek that shining goal ! 

Father, may I come? 
Take Thou my life, take Thou my soul, 

This world is not my home. 



146 Pos.1225 °J ^5SlT2tlT22S:T2t' 



Do You Tfiin^ of Me? 

♦ I |o you think of me, as the days go by, 
(5 < i_ > / As Time, with his rude relentless tie, 
Draws closer the veil o'er our youth's bright sky ? 
Do you sometimes think of me? 

Was friendship's bud that joyous oped, 
When in youth for warmer love we hoped, 
So chilled by the grief with which we coped 
That it blooms not now for me? 

Was love's sweet breath that once did blow, 
O'er our lives with gladness all aglow, 
With gossip's dust polluted so 
That you have no love for me? 

Has remembrance entirely passed away? 

Have I gone from the fields where your dear 

thoughts play? 
I shall love you Dear to my dying day, 
Pray sometimes think of me ! 



Not to HaV^ ai^H to HofH 147 



Not to fiaVe eo2el to Hof 3 



♦ \0T tC 
2; * 



to have and to hold, not to kiss and 
QJ \ caress, 

Just to stand at a distance and cherish and bless; 
Not to fold to my bosom and lull her to sleep, 
As a good ship becalmed on the breast of the 

deep; 
Not to bathe in those tresses and drink in those 

eyes, 
As deep as the ocean and clear as the skies; 
Not to press those dear lips as my heart would 

desire, 
Nor to do aught to quench love's insatiate fire; 
Not to have and to hold, not to kiss and caress, 
Just to stand at a distance and cherish and bless. 

How rich seems the ore of whose vein we lose 

trace ! 
How lovely the form that we cannot embrace ! 
How bright seems the sun to a man in a cave— 
How dear is the loved one we know we can't 

have ! 

God hath given each part and each power that 

we have. 
Is it weakness to want — a crime to crave? 



1.48 P©e:T22$ o^ -Ssrrcti m<s.rz)L 



Has the eagle its wings not to soar in the sky? 

The songster his tune not to warble on high? 

Has the rainbow its hue and the blossom its scent 

To be hidden and lost in the vast firmament? 

Is the cup of our joy of so fragile a make 

That, filled once in a lifetime, the vessel would 
break? 

Must we gaze upon beauty, nor yield to its power? 

Stroll all thru the garden, but touch not a flower? 

Know the warmth of the sunlight, yet dwell in a 
cave? 

Look on fashion's gay whirl, yet with loneliness 
rave? 

Gasp for air in a meadow, yea stand on the brink 

Of a world-bounded ocean, yet famish for drink? 

In the wide world of plenty should famine pre- 
vail? 

Must a lone life be shipwrecked in sight of a sail? 

Oft who long most for gold can have nothing 

but dross, 
Oft who seek greatest gain meet the heaviest 

loss, 
But the gilt and the glory, of land or of sea, 
And the glitter of gold are as nothing to me. 
I desire nothing more and desire nothing less 
Than to have you to hold and to kiss and caress. 



Not to flaVe #723 to Hof 3 149 



Sweet Darling, my angel, my love's cherished 

dream, 
My heart's sacred idol, my muse's fair theme, — 
As pure as the snowflake, as fair as the flower, 
As dear as the mem'ry of some vanished hour: 
Voluptuous virgin, of heaven, yet earth, — 
The stars sang together the morn of thy birth, 
And Venus there posed and the sculptor divine 
Formed his favorite image— that image was 

thine, 
Imbued with the grace of the Master above, 
Formed but to fondle, designed but to love, 
Earth's costliest treasure, above or below, 
The last, dearest pleasure that mortal can 

know— 
I would sacrifice all and the sacrifice bless 
Could I have you to hold and to kiss and caress. 



li)0 Poen-^e^of SsiT2tiT22e.T2t 



TBe Hofia^ 



\ A / ell pleased to hear "Old Prexy" say, 
™ ■" The pipes were burst and there would be 
No classes held thruout the day, 
The students cheered most merrily. 

The bell was tapped, all crowded_out, 

And hurried here and there, 
Full many a joyous song and shout 

Fell on the wintry air. 

The bounding echoes on the walls 

Re-echoed as they sang, 
While down the stairs and distant halls 

The mingled music rang. 

A merry medley filled the place, 

Of song and laughter gay. 
And one could read in every face 

"Now for a holiday !" 

Oh blessed youth, oh bloom of May ! 

It thrills my soul with pleasure 
To think of that glad holiday — 

And yet I've lost that treasure. 



«Mi.sgpV-mgr_$ li)I 



♦ I t seems, Dear, sometimes that I bore you. 
<2/ A sad, sullen, silence steals o'er you. 

It seems that you say, 

I wish he were away, 
And my heart breaks to feel that I bore you. 

Dear love, I forever adore you, 

And I swear, by the future before you, 

I will bow at thy will 

Till my pulses stand still. 
May the angels in heaven watch o'er you ! 



Il2 Irm't&.'t/lOU ©j 7 D©T2 Jo.8v.T2 




i he hour is just slipping o'er past shades of 
night, 

So close is the coming of day's lovely dawn, 
And here in the gloom of this misty like light, 
Whose darkness dissolves in the brightness of 
morn, 
I take up my pen a few verses to write 

In stanzas and metre like Byron's Don Juan. 
Be his bed of the hottest that sinners e'er lie on, 
This lusty adventurous hero of Byron. 



11)25 P©e-Q2$ of SeT2tlT2aeT2t 



Respite 



, /Y\ id the strife and storm at ocean, 
Q/^\ Com es a calm upon the deep. 

Oft amid life's wild commotion 
Comes a lull of rest and sleep. 

Often when the heart is weary, 

With the cares of busy life, 
Comes respite from scenes so dreary, 

Comes a moment free from strife. 

From the struggle of existence, 
From the heat of crowded mart — 

Battling 'gainst the world's resistance 
With the muscle, mind and heart, 

What sweet peace, what satisfaction ! 

what rest it is to be 
Lapsing in the whole reaction 

Of a soulful harmony. 



Respite 1£>3 



Such a calm now soothes my spirit, 
Such a lull is in my breast. 

Joy supernal now, or near it, 
Thrills my soul this hour of rest. 

True, I was a clumsy feature, 
Mid so many pleasing graces, 

Trite, uncouth, unmated creature; 
But your smiling beaming faces 

Lit my soul and filled with leaven 
All my being that glad hour, 

As the smiling beams of heaven 
Burst in bloom the prairie flower. 

Like a lone, unskilled musician, 
Midst a grand celestial choir, 

Cognizance of my position 
Could not quench my heart's desire. 

Let me thank you then kind hostess 
For the pleasure you have given. 

Oft delights which least do cost us 
Lift us nearest unto heaven. 



li)4 Po®.T22S ©J ^)®.T2"PlT22S:T2t' 



I have viewed the western prairies 
Where the flowers were blooming wild, 

I have strolled adown the valleys 
Where the morning sunlight smiled, 

I have stood at noon and listened 
To the song-bird on the hill — 

Wandered thru the wood at even, 
Rested by the rippling rill; 

But no rest was ever dearer, 
But no scene was e'er more bright, 

Nor was happiness brought nearer; 
Than Upon that hallowed night. 

Pray accept this little token 

Of my gratitude to you. 
Words are weak that may be spoken 

Hearts alone reveal the true. 



I love the song-birds' singing, 
I love the summer flowers; 

And chimes of evening ringing 
Thruout the woodland bowers. 



S^atmgr 1&5 



JS^ft/trrerf 



Note:— These impromptu lines were in response to a request to write 
a poem in five minutes on the subject, skating. 



J) 



rating! it is so nice, 
Gliding o'er the giddy ice ! 
Gazing thru the crust below, 
Scarce an inch thick, 'way you go, 
This way, that way, swerve and sway, 
Like some restless bird at play. 
Sailing, skimming thru the air— 
There was never sport more rare. 
Then it is such royal fun 
When a race is to be run. 
Girls and boys and boys and girls— 
Each one this way, that way, whirls, 
Impatient for the risky race, 
With lively limb and eager face. 
All form a row. Line up there Ned. 
Away you go ! Time up? "Nuff said." 



li)6 Posrme, ©J ^€.T2tlT22S:T2t' 



♦ LA ccomplished cousin, schoolmate, friend,, 
QJ -L Congratulations I extend 

To you in your position, 
As editor Republican. 
You now must be a putty man 

And stick to that condition. 

You know the pranks upon those girls, 
And on the wag with auburn curls, 

I tell you what the fact is, 
You did so well one wicked thing 
Now see again if you can bring, 

Your tact into your practice. 

Majorities must always rule, 
For might is right and any fool 

Who differs is a crank; 
So smile on almost every one, 
And surely those with good clothes on 

And money in the bank. 



fl 5a-tri-re 157 



Now Putty, drink with those who drink, 
But "kill" your breath, for some do think 

That drinking is a vice. 
And you must play with those who play, 
That is if they won't give you 'way, 

And if you have the price. 

A Populist you must not be, 
Nor Socialist, nor thinker free, 

Join the unthinking side. 
And boom the party now in power 
And preach its gospel hour by hour. 

Let Grover Cleveland slide. 

Free trade and finance, too, let fall; 
But shout protection till each wall 

Shall echo with your voice. 
You must not for the right contend, 
No principle of truth defend, 

But falsehood take by choice. 

That is if it is well received, 
And by the major side believed; 

But if it is not so, 
Then quickly to the other sway, 
The peoples' way must be your way 

And with them you must go. 



li)8 Poec^ie, ©J ®)®:T2ti me:u^ 



Support in full all party laws, 

Tho they be filled with brutal flaws, 

And many be oppressed. 
If mortal tumbles down fame's hill, 
Why, as he tumbles, kick him still. 

Be always like the rest. 

As shVry rays 
And sunny days 

As clouds and stormy weather, 
Policy sweet 
And bread and meat 

In politics go together. 



Frag- 122 e. "rat's, 



, I HE air was calm, the sky was clear, 
-*- The quiet stars, so sparkling bright, 
Cast gently o'er our earthly sphere, 
In silvery rays, their shimmering light. 



The earth's broad breast was colored green 
With woodlands, hedges, fields and grass, 

And half enraptured by the scene 
I sat and watched the night hours pass. 




Purity l^ 9 

To Mis^ 

h! what a world is this of ours! 
So well designed, so wisely planned ! 
Ityields of thorns, or yields of flowers, 
As those who sow the seed command. 

It yields us sorrow— yields us joy- 
As we but choose the weal or woe. 

And those have joy, without alloy, 
Who rightly choose the way to go. 

Well hast thou chosen, pretty maid, 
Life's beauteous, flowery, path to tread; 

Altho not always flowers were laid 
Along thy path, but thorns instead. 

Such boundless joy when one can feel 

Another's heart beat as its own I 
Ah ! Happy lot ! Unclouded weal ! 

Life's gloomy shadows all have flown. 

Thy pure, sweet life dost wear a gem, 
That keeps its pathway all aglow; 

'Tis purity. No diadem 
Of priceless pearls could sparkle so I 

Celestial gleam of light may shine, 
O'er hill and vale and running stream; 

Be purity's rich beauty thine, 
'Twill ever glow a crystal beam. 



160 P©S.T2ZS ©J ,Se:T2tiT22eT2t' 



To 



3'VE sat me down to write some lines to you, 
And hope to have some rhythm in them too. 
I've all the paper easy to be found, 
And pen and ink and pencils scattered round. 
A little table just my height to share 
When sitting straight, cross-legged on a chair. 
I'm looking out the window o'er the hill 
In hope with active thought my mind to fill, 
But gazing on the window or the wall, 
Or roof or floor or anything at all, 
Has failed so far to fill my mind with thought; 
But certainly it seems as though it ought. 
My thoughts are scattered like the bits of hay 
We gather in the mead on summer day. 
My ideas are few and far between, 
As any tufts of grasses I have seen. 
My brain I'm sure, as spongy and as loose 
As any stack we make— but then no use 
To write to you about my sad condition; 
Because you are no practicing physician. 
I danced last night until the hours grew small, 
This said, and I've accounted for it all. 
But now I wonder how with murky mind 
The substance for a poem I may find. 
I cannot write, I'll give it up, no use, 
I'll blame the whole bad business on my muse. 



Normaf Bsffs 161 



Norma? Be££,s 
Am:- "Gospel Bells." 

^T he Normal Bells are ringing 
* J_ Out the tidings glad and free; 
Hark ! the sound of our glad triumph, 

0, how sweet to you and me ! 
Our Kansas Normal School, 

We so long have loved so well, 
We have crowned at last in triumph, 

Hear the Kansas Normal Bell. 

Chorus. 
Normal Bells, how they ring, 

Out the tidings glad and free; 
Treely ring ! we've a wing ! 

We have wings for you and me. 

Our Kansas legislature, 

Through her ceaseless strife and toil, 
Never once from conscious duty, 

Or from honor did recoil. 
Our new wing appropriation 

Passed with yeas from voices all, 
0, we shout in exultation ! 

Sound the merry Normal call. 



16$B Poems, ©^ Ss:T2tiT2as.T2t 



Still the Normal Bells are ringing, 

Still our hearts are glad and free, 
With rejoicing and with singing, 

While the joyful moments flee- 
Let us onward march in triumph, 

Never let our ardor cool, 
Bless the Kansas legislature ! 

Bless the Kansas Normal School ! 



I LoVe Yon. 



+ V*OU do not know, Dear, how I love 
-*- you. 

Your young bosom feels not the thrill 
That makes my heartache and stand still, 
And then bound wildly onward. I love you. 

You do not know, Dear, how I love you. 
You scorn loving words that I speak, 
And withdraw your soft hand or your cheek 

That I cannot show, Dear, how I love you. 

You do not know, Dear, how I love you— 
How, my precious, your scorn or your smile 
Makes me heaven or hell for the while, — 

you do not know, Dear, how I love you ! 

You do not know, Dear, how I love you ! 

I pray you to wait with your heart, 

Held from all others apart, 
Till you learn, Dear, to know how I love you I 



TO 8L Fri£T2Gt 1^3 



To a Friers 3. 

~\xou call me a poet, an error how 
_L gross ! 

Of all the things under the sun, 
I am not a poet, not even the dross 

Of what might have been made into one. 

If I were a poet, my thoughts on the wings 
Of the morning would hasten away 

To spiritual realms, to loftier things, 
Above this cold earth and her clay. 

They would start with the flow of old Time's 
sleepy tide- 
Skim light o'er the beautiful wave- 
Thru all of her seasons and ages to glide 
And poise on eternity's grave. 

They would pause on the present to banish the 
wrong. 

They would yield to the future a gem: 
And o'er the dead past they would chant a song— 

A tuneful requiem. 

I would sing to men's minds of the truth they 
should know, . 

And my songs would sink deep in the soul: 
But I am not a poet, so have to sail low, 

And aim not for the genius' goal. 



1<£>4 P©e:"re-2;s> ©j 5 -SenairimeiTal 

3F you meet a Normal lassie— 
Coming thru the aisle, 
Ask her why she is so happy — 

Coming thru the aisle, 
She will smile and tell you sweetly, 

Free from every guile, 
"0 all the lads they smile at me while 
Coming thru the aisle !" 

In Assembly all so silent 

Sit in sober style, 
Twenty wise and good professors 

Watching all the while. 
Soon the tiny bells are ringing, 

Soon we form in file; 
0, then you see the fun beginning 

Coming thru the aisle ! 

If a senior meet a junior — 

Coming thru the aisle, 
Need a senior tell a junior 

''Keep in single file?" 
Junior sees a huge professor's 

Feelings 'gin to rile, 
And joins a party at twelve-thirty — 
Coming thru the aisle. 



G©T»i-ng TGroagG tBe flij$£e 16i> 



If a bonnie junior lassie- 
Coming thru the aisle, 

Moves so gracefully before you, 
Close in single file : 

Is it wrong to linger near her— 
Laugh and talk and smile, 

With no professor near to hear you— 
Coming thru the aisle? 

Stately senior slowly moving, 

Moving thru the aisle, 
Junior lassie close beside him, 

Not in single file; 
Round and round the circle moving 

More than half a mile, 
happy day ! pleasant way of 

Coming thru the aisle ! 

Soon will school day-dreams be over- 
Coming thru the aisle. 

Soon we'll stroll thru fields of clover 
Happy hours to guile; 

Soon we'll tread life's flowery path, 
Tho not in single file; 

So smile you lassie, bonnie lassie- 
Coming thru the aisle. 



166 Peerr^ of Scratimciat 



•v*?!? b6f fr the KanS3S State Normal Senior Class of 1894 of 
which the author was class poet. 

JhROM the dreams of our youth, from our 
<3A childhood's wild fancies, 

So many sweet visions have vanished from 
sight, 
In the heart's happy dreamland, so many huge 
castles 
Lie crumbled and lost in oblivion's night. 

Yet the scenes that have faded— rich joys that 
have vanished— 
Return with the years and are with us again. 
Out in life's fertile fields, strewn with sunshine 
and shadow, 
We strive with the thistle, and garner the 
grain. 



GerctfeTKCT Seniors ©J '^ 16T 



In our school we have reaped a most bountiful 

While autumn flowers bloom, and the autumn 
leaves lower, 
We have gleaned all the fields of the lovely 
Quivera, 
And garnered the Seniors of Ninety and Four. 

Of the Gentlemen Seniors alone would we dream. 

The fairer, the lovelier half of the class- 
So charming a subject, so lofty a theme- 
It must be our mission in silence to pass. 
Suffice it to say, that the Moonlight is beaming, 
Reflecting the smile and the light of each Son: 
That, deep in each soul, young love sweetly 
dreaming, 
Awaits till its mission of joy is begun. 

One Berry is "ripe", but we have Means to 

gather. ~ . A 

Many Sons smile sweetly on Moore, Craig and 

One wantTto be Stout. Another would rather 

Be-Long to one of the senior young men. 
We have Gentlemen Seniors of divers descrip- 

HaveTe^k ones and strong ones— have short 

ones and tall: — , . ^ 

Have brown-eyes, and blue-eyes-have men wise 

and unwise— , 

Have good men, and bad men— men great, and 

men small. 



168 Poe-me, ©J SeT2tlT22&T2t 



If school-boards want teachers of any descrip- 
tion 
We're sure we can quickly supply the demands, 
Make known what you want. We will fill the 
prescription. 
We turn out school teachers all sizes and 
brands. 

If farm hands are wanted, we always supply 
them. 

If carpenters, clerks, or maulers of rails, 
If lawyers or sawyers, we never deny them. 

Bring on your demand, our supply never fails. 

By the way, to young ladies desiring a husband, 
We think we could find for you several score 

Mid the short ones, the tall ones, the great ones, 
the small ones, — 
The Gentlemanly Seniors of Ninety and Four. 

One is Long, none are longer, some as slim, some 
slimmer, 
But few are more witty and many less wise. 
All handsome young fellows, neat, trim, —one is 
Trimmer 
He blacks his mustache till it's dark as his 
eyes. 

Some curious things, as now I remember, 
I think that I never have witnessed before, 

A Mayberry blooming so late in September, 
As here mid the Seniors of Ninety and Four. 



Gewtfemeia Seniors of '94 169 



A long list of needs that I think I must mention, 
So common to all of the genus of man. 

Young ladies, I specially call your attention 
If you cannot help them, I pray you who can? 

So many so often need sewing on buttons. 
And several, sitting, have worn out their 
clothes. 
Some ties will be crooked, and coats must be 
dusted 
And many need washing and mending of hose. 

Alive to their needs, some are making advances 
One strolls by the Woodside in evening's gloom, 

Some others are fond of the C girls' sweet 
clances 
Beware boys, beware of the bachelor's doom! 

A tall stately Senior of Ninety and Four, 
With baritone voice that is heaven to hear, 

Well won a fair D, who is classed so no more. 
And they are more happy than any one near. 

His name ends with R, beginning with T. 

His classmates all think him a jolly good fellow. 
Her name ends with N, beginning with G,- 

And rhymes— her first name-rhymes well 
with Delia. 



170 P©ST225 ©j" 5©T2tlT22©72l 



We passed thru the lines, each took us by hand, 
And made some remark on the wind, or the 
weather- 
Not knowing if we were A, X, Y, or Z, 

For both were so happy, that they were to- 
gether. 

And others are hopeful, ah some the possessors 

Of ardent desires that they even may go 

With some of our charming young lady profes- 
sors; 

But even sub-normal girls answer them no. 

Ah, our dream-haunted minds, so bedimmed in 
their vision — 

So hopelessly blind— see promise elysian. 

Somewhere in the future, o'er life's dreary 
ocean, 

Thru sunshine, thru shadow, thru calm and 
commotion, 

We think we see gleaming, hope's glittering 
star 

Some sweet face beaming afar, afar. 

So ladies, at last when you choose you a hus- 
band, 

Remember that never you close your heart's 

door 
To the short ones, the tall ones, the great ones, 

the small ones— 
The Gentlemen Seniors of Ninety and Four 



.Maggie JV1sl£ 171 



♦ I have loved you long and truly, 
Qj I will love you to the close; 

Tho the stars that shine above me fade away, 
Tho the moon should sink from heaven, 
Till my spirit seeks repose— 
Ever love you Darlie Minnie, Minnie May. 

Chorus. 
Minnie, Minnie, my own loved Minnie, 

Darlie Minnie, my own sweet May ! 
Come back, my own loved Minnie, 

Minnie, Minnie, my own alway. 

Oh my heart was young and happy 
When I sought you for my bride, 
But those happy, happy hours are all away. 
There is naught but grief and sorrow 
In my spirit to abide. 
Oh I love you, Darlie Minnie, Minnie May. 

Chorus: 




ITS Pos:t22$ oj 3 ,Sen2-tiT22s.T2-t' 



<Maj/ I Gorae florae? 



he days are dull and dreary. 
The nights so long and lone, 
And my aching heart aweary 

Of this life-tide's dismal moan. 
My soul is sick with waiting 

And my brain with grief is dumb. 
Oh why this hesitating? 
Dear Love, may I come home? 

The heart left to its ravage 

Too oft finds weaker woes. 
Half sacred and half savage 

The stronger feature grows. 
Leave wild beasts on the mountain 

In solitude to roam, 
I thirst for joy's deep fountain, 

For you and love and home. 

The silent lonely river, 

Finds solace in the sea, 
But my love lives on forever 

Unto Eternity. 
Aye wide indeed the ocean, 

And deep as heaven's dome, 
To calm my hearts devotion 

Dear Love, may I come home? 



I HaVe Left M^ He.ex.rt Bs-BmH 173 



I HaVe Le^t M^ Heart BefiinH 

♦ lJ lovely day in the month of May, 
qJ _L The orchards are white with bloom, 
And the breezes that blow the petal-flaked snow 

Are freighted with rich perfume. 
'Tis a beautiful day, and we speed away 

As lightly as the wind; 
But to me 'tis dull, my cup is full, 

For I've left my heart behind. 

Speed on train, plunge on amain, 

Thru all the day and night. 
Go any where, I little care 

Where you may take your flight. 
With no more home than beasts that roam, 

And with less of peace of mind, 
Why should I care what fate ensnare? 

I have left my heart behind. 

Dream on for aye, doleful day, 

Unto the night of gloom! 
Could one but sleep the hours away 

And rest within the tomb ! 
Forge on amain, life's endless chain, 

No longer cans't thou bind 
Thy weight of dole unto my soul, 

I have left my heart behind. 



IT 4 P©eiT22$ oj ,SeiT2tlT22G.T2t' 

Ring on ye chimes of hallowed times, 

Or dirge in mournful measure, 
Nor rhythmic runes of dream-lit Junes 

Can thrill my soul with pleasure. 
Nor to the drear eternity 

Can peace becalm my mind, 
Bereft and lone, a clod, a stone — 

I have left my heart behind. 



Brevet OlT2g[ Bcittsr 

♦ I used to wish that I was older 
0/ So that I might go to sea 
A little maid I knew in childhood 
Whom I loved most ardently. 

I think I was about fourteen, 
I asked my ma if I might go 

And call upon the little miss, 
She shook her head and answered no. 

She thought I was too young, she said, 
I'd better wait a year or two 

So that when I a courting went 
I'd know some better how to do. 



BreexH eLiaH Battfer 17§ 



I thought I then knew nearly all, 
And soon would learn about the rest, 

So off I started to my call, 

In shining shoes and Sunday vest. 

But when she met me at the door, 
Oh how my heart did jump and flutter 

She handed me (which grieved me sore,) 
A nice large piece of bread and butter. 

I took the bread and hung my head, 
Not knowing what to say or do; 

But, by her looks, and words she said, 
Decided I had better go. 

And off I went adown the street. 

My head was lying on my breast, 
My eyes were fastened on my feet, 

My mind, you know, was not at rest. 

'Twas injury to innocence. 

The only swear words that I utter 
Are when some dolt for want of sense 

Will tell about that bread and butter. 



176 ¥oe-m& ©J Seinftm&nk 



Tfie PartireGj From Pa^o,^/ 



•'Moving Don't Forget the Cat."— Geo. T. Angel. 



~x> 



* \<o ^ oor P ussv " ca t * s teft to mew around, 
-*- Deserted by all friends she ever found, 
Loved ones forsaken and all pleasures flown, 
She can do naught but mew about alone. 
No more she meets her Tom in the ravine, 
No more she frolics on the summer green, 
And, cautious, steals on unsuspecting mice: 
Poor puss is now herself the sacrifice. 
No master's lap shall be a bed for her, 
No tapering hand caress her glossy fur, 
No sparkling eyes with tender, loving grace 
Admiringly beam down in pussy's face. 
No more she basks within the sunny glow 
Of school-girl fond affection, now the snow 
And bitter blasts of winter 'round her fall 
While darkness echoes back her mewy call. 



G©T22s. To Me ITT 



Gome To Me 

♦ I Bear Love, while life's tide is flowing, 
<o^-^ Skim merrily over the sea; 
But in time of its ebbing and going, 
Oh then, oh come to me! 

In the sunlight of joy and gladness, 

Trip lightly across the lea; 
But in gloom-time of grief and sadness, 

Bring your aching heart home to me. 

While friendship and love are abounding; 

I ask not, nor hope, for thee; 
But, dear one, in the end, when in need of a friend, 

Oh then, come home to me! 

When the gilt and the glory have faded, 

Come home, come home to me: 
For my love endures, and my heart is yours, 

Unto eternity. 



17 o Poem^ ©J Sera ti 122 er^t 



Re3eei2^e3 B^/ LoVe 



e 



-A Temperance Play for a Boy and Girl. Characters— Claude Langwar 
a Young Man, and Amelia, his wife. 



Scene I. An illy furnished room partly illu- 
minated by a dimly burning light. Amelia is 
kneeling by a cot, weeping and the young man 
lying on the cot. Both pooily clad. 

Claude: 



v "TyT Y nour * 

o/A\ldread 



is come, Dear love forgive ! 
its close. Oh I would live 

And love and cleave to thee till death; 
But curse this demon, drink, my breath 
Seems taken 'way, oh water ! I— (she brings 

water) 
One moment more before I die. 



Reels. e. -meet B^ LoVe 179 

(Aside) 

God bless the hand that gave that draught ! 

Would that none other I had quaffed. 
(Holds up Bottle) 

Oh cursed evil thou hast been 

The cause of all my grief and sin ! 

In early youth you stole my power 

And hold it to this very hour. 

I knew not then its cruel blight, 

I thirsted, drank it in the night. 

I sipped the poison from the bowl 

And sank damnation in my soul. 

Thy will, not mine is holding sway, 

Thou dost command, I must obey. (Drinks. ) 

(Amelia) 

Dear Claude 'tis not too late, you can 
Yet lift your head and be a man. 
His strength is as the strength of ten 
Who nerves his brawn with courage, then 
Dry up those tears and smile once more, 
Be blithe and gladsome as of yore. 



180 P©€rr22$ ©J S<2LT2¥\m<£.T2{ 

I would so happy be and you — 
Claude begin your life anew! 
Leave off strong drink, and break the spell 
That binds your mind and soul in hell. 
Think of the sorrow, grief and crime 
Brought on by drink! Dear love, in time 
You know not what 'twill drive you to — 
What sin and sorrow may ensue. 
Have courage Claude the greatest men 
Have conquered most — oh why yield then 
To self? Who rules mankind, we're told 
Must govern first himself. Be bold, 
Recall thy pride, assert thy power, 
And break the chain this very hour! 

(Claude) 

Can courage live where hope is dead? 
Can manhood thrive when strength has fled? 
Can joy abide in sin's dark blot? 
Can life exist where love is not? 



R&cl€:s.T^2e.Gl B^ LoVe 181 

(Amelia) 

Aye love, love has not fled. The more 
Eyes flood with tears and souls weep gore, 
The more misfortune's chilling blast 
Sweeps o'er the spirit, the more fast, 
And firmly bind those sacred ties 
That hold all human sympathies. 

{Claude) 

Oh do you love? What, can it be? 
Still love a wayward boy like me? 
Whose soul so withered in its youth — 
Whose heart so early turned from truth 
Are ruined by the cursed bowl? 

(Amelia) 

Our hearts our destinies control. 
Yes, Love that's true can never die: 
Not while the stars gleam in the sky, 
While space exists — while time divides 
Eternity, true love abides. 

(Claude) 

But has your heart not changed my dear 
From what it was that glad new year 
When we were wed? 



18^8 Poe.T22$ of .Senxfr'-r^ei-rct 

(Amelia) 

Hearts never fail when once they feel 
The warm blood bound to love's appeal. 

(Claude) 

Thou hast been faithful thru these years— 
In silence borne the trials and tears 
While I, estranged and distant grown, 
Judged thy sweet nature by my own? 

(Amelia) 

I love you truly. Woman's love 

No more can change than God's above. 

(Claude) 

I have been false but now will prove, 
Henceforth, my courage and my love. 
I have been weak but strength new-wrought 
Comes with my lesson dearly taught. 
And now I break the final link 
That bound me to the demon drink; 
And solemnly, to God above, 
And sacredly to her I love, 
Do pledge myself that never more, 
While oceans throb from shore to shore, 
While stars shine in the silent skies, 
While men defy their destinies, 



While life remains, while death awaits, 
While this old world yet gravitates — 
Until the sun's last grand eclipse 
Shall alcohol approach my lips. 

(Amelia) 

Now God be praised my husband's free! 
Farewell to life of misery ! 
Now God be praised ! May God approve 
Redeemed by love ! Redeemed by love I 



Scene II. Cosy cottage. Same couple well 
dressed. She reading. He finishes writing. 

(Claude) 

Well I have done these lines for Flower. 
I penned them off in just an hour. 
A column on the force of will— 
An even hundred dollar bill. 
The Argus pays well, let me see — 
This issue — last — last two yes three. 
And then my last in the Review 
Brought in a jolly hundred too. 
Four thousand dollars in this year 



184 P©e"m$ ©J ^>eT2tlT?2S.T2t' 

(Amelia) 

You'll be a vanderbilt I fear, 
No, that need never trouble you, 
For you could spend his every sou. 

(Claude) 

Not all reward is in the ease 

And comfort brought with cash, one sees 

And joys to find in lives of men 

The morals written by his pen. 

There is a solace in the thought 

That others act as you have taught, 

And that their lives have brighter grown 

Enacting precepts you have shown. 

It is my aim— my great desire 

Some way to lift life's standard higher — 

Some how by act of tongue or pen 

Be helpful to my fellow men. 

(Amelia) 

Dear Claude how bright the world has been. 
To us the last short year. No din 
Of storm or cloud has crossed our sky. 

(Claude) 

My Little One, the reason why 
Is very plain, for nature's laws 



ReScs:T22S.S B/ LoVs 18i) 



Are logical. Take 'way the cause 
Of crime, and wrong will not prevail, 
Of sin — no sorrow will entail. 

The law of life is happiness. 
A million joys delight and bless. 

Think of the balmy breath of spring, 
The flowers, the song-birds caroling, 
And lambkins playing on the green. 
The winter sports are gay, I ween, 
The snow-clad hills, the wild sleigh ride, 
The parties, balls and moonlight glide 
Upon the ice with friends so dear. 
Ah pleasure fills the whole glad year! 

And in the cities myriad sports 
At park or play or health resorts, 
And on the mart of trade where pride 
And avarice are gratified, 
And bold ambition takes recess, 
And pent up genius finds egress. 
A thousand joys for great and small 
With love the crowning joy of all. 



186 P0SIT225 ©J -Ssrrab'-msmt' 

But, violate the laws of life, 
The soul is filled with storm and strife 
Take poison from the cursed bowl, 
You sink damnation in your soul. 
Drink alcohol— become a slave — 
For ever more with madness rave. 
Throw off the yoke and break the chain- 
Stand forth a conscient man again. 
Make firm resolve— assert your will, 
Virtue enthrone ! honor instill ! 
The tempest o'er— the anchor fast 
Let love crown all while life shall last. 
(Amelia) 

Yes, God be praised our souls are free ! 
Farewell to grief and misery ! 
Now God be praised, may God approve. 
Redeemed by love ! Redeemed by love I 



LoVe ea2ci Jo^ 187 



Yc> 

I * ove stood upon the brink of joy's deep foun- 
v^*— ^ tain, 

When life was young. 
A crystal stream gushed forth from nature's 
mountain, 
In buoyant song. 

Love strolled beside a meadow rich with pleas- 
ure — 

The morn was fair— 
And sighed, and gazed upon the beauty treasure, 

So rich and rare. 

He plucked the floral objects of devotion 

So divine, 
And drained unto its depths a sweeter potion 

Than nectared wine. 

And then the sparkle in the fountain vanished, 

Its essence gone; 
The fragrance of the fading flowers diminished, 

For joy had flown. 



188 PoS.T2ae, ©"P ^exT2ti*T22S.T2't' 

♦ I ^right beams of the morning flood 

(5^—^ hilltops and valleys, 

Fair flowers waft perfume over field, mead 
and grove, 

And my heart is attuned with the beams and the 
blossoms, 

I have pressed the sweet lips of the one that 
I love. 

Soft breathe the sweet zephyrs, with perfume 
o'er laden. 
The calm, peaceful waves on life's ocean 
scarce move. 
I have launched my life bark with an angelic 
maiden— 
Have sipped one sweet draught from the 
fountain of love. 

come, like a lily bud, lie on my bosom. 

Cling to my heart like a hope that is vain, 
Breathe in my life the sweet breath of thy being, 
Blend soul with soul nor to sever again. 

Dear little love, if I only could win- you, 

Sweet precious, no tongue could my happi- 
ness tell. 

1 would soar to a haven of happiness with you 

Or drop with you down into bottomless helL 



flia Ofa Home 189 



An Ota florae 

was here those sacred words of love were 




spoken, 
And vows were made that never have been 

broken. 
Here evening callers sprinkled beauteous flowers, 
Here youthful lovers spent long happy hours. 
Here charming maidens laughed in love's delight 
And beauty beamed in ever-glowing light. 

youthful day, loving, blooming season, 
So soon to pass away! My heart throbs treason 
To the reign of time that holds us in the now 
Oblivious to the past. I wonder how 
The future may be spent that every scene 
Gone by may be preserved in memory green. 

Old things are dearest. Who has not been told 
The new can never supersede the old? 
Old love is fondest. Ah, who ever feels 
More perfect bliss than young first love reveals! 



190 PoST^e, of 5)®:T2tlT22S.T2i 



Old scenes are brightest. None shall see the day 
When memories of childhood pass away. 

* 'What favored scenes, however far you roam, 
Are half so dear to you as scenes of home? 
Dear home, when all life's beauties fade away, 
When summer bloom shall turn to winter gray, 
When all life was to be is o'er and past, 
Let me return to thee to sleep at last. 



* I i 0LD Time approached Eternity 
(0*° — ^ And offered her his hand. 
' 'Most joyfully I welcome thee, 

I've searched o'er sea and land- 
Thru many a year— thru ages drear — 

But now at last we've met." 
1 'Ah noble T. " ' 'Unhappily, 

You find me fleeing yet." 



Erarocitk 191 



Euro ate 

¥ J he road will be long, my good Jehu, 
-L And rough too, but then to-day's thaw 
Has softened it some for the horses 
And we are not heavy to draw. 

The ground will be freezing by morning 

And maybe before we get home. 
But there is a road on the mountains 

Less traveled than this we have come. 

We return by that way. How much darker 

It is ! It will snow before long 
We'll draw up the robes close about us 

And I'll entertain with a song. 

It will make our long drive so much shorter, 
You join when we reach the refrain 

We will scare the wild beasts from the roadside, 
And one of them, time, will be slain. 



19S Poeroxs oj Se.T2tirz2is.T2t 



Ho, ho, how the snow flakes are falling 
Ho, ho, the cold night gathers fast! 

And the loud-voiced north wind, fiercely calling, 
Is blinding us now with its blast. 

Let us laugh, let us sing on together. 

Altho the sleet rattles and drums 
On the cover. As well take the weather 

The way we take life— as it comes. 



1 



Wfi>^/ T'fie^/ We-Tit 

♦ ^ ot to seek vain pomp and glory, 
Qj } Did our noble boys in blue 
March to battle fields all gory, 

They enlisted, cause 'twas new— 
Found it "different from the story" — 
Then went just 'cause they had to. 



flrafDiticyn I-'-j 



3 stand beside the old home gate. 
How fresh and cool the air! 
The bells have tolled the hour of eight. 
No vesper chimes e'er emulate 
A summer eve more rare. 

The playful branches to and fro 

Romp with the roguish breeze, 
As restlessly they come and go 
And cast their shifting shades below, 
Dark silhouetts 'neath the trees. 

A monster train on distant road 

Disturbs the quiet hour 
With throb and beat. It seems to goad 
Itself with the tremendous load 

To show its giant power. 

Thou who made the summer night, 

My heart burns with desire 
To match the engine in its might, 
To know the truth, to do the right, 
And lift life's standard higher. 



194 Pos-mO, ©J < S<S.T2'tlT22€:T2t' 



3 



Tfie Spirit e>j ffie Hoar 

would sing, knew I the melody 

That prompts the poet's power, 
On the joy of this occasion, 
In the gladness of the hour, 

Of the spirit that imbues us, 

As we all assemble here, 
In this union of the forces 

That impel our social sphere. 

In this union of our forces 

Four societies appear, 
Side by side, hearts linked together, 

Chosen friendship close and dear. 

In the union of societies, 

Kansas Normal's power and pride, 
What but joy could be our greeting? 

What but happiness betide? 



TBe Spirit oj tfSe Hoar 195 



>> 



It is said by-would be rivals, 
Those who envy us perhaps, 

Possibly the charming creatures 
On the hill, the "College Chaps, 

That dark feuds exist among us, 
That we wage abnormal war. 

Read the answer in these faces, 
In the Spirit of the Hour. 



Bead the answer in these faces— 
In the soul-lit eyes that glow 

With the warmth of truest friendship 
From the purest founts that flow. 

Here we sit. The Old Lyceum 

Close by Literati's side— 
Philomathia- Belles Lettres 

All in friendship's bonds allied. 

No distrust or vain misgiving 

On the part of any lies, 
All contented, all are happy, 

Strengthened by the common ties. 



196 Pos:t22$ of Ssrreti-menQt" 

Literati and Lyceum, 

Philomathian and Belle— 
All join hands and sing in triumph 

Feud and faction fare you well! 

All are one! And thus united, 

Recognize no party power. 
All are free! No feud or faction 

0, the spirit of the hour! 

Here is handsome Literati, 

Proud of all his virtue's might. 

He it is who bids us welcome; 
A bachelor, our host to-night. 

Once he loved fair Philomathia, 

And 'twas thought that they would wed; 
But the old Lyceum wooed her 

And she chose the last instead. 

Chose the last, and in the contest 
Close beside him firm she stood, 

Lent a willing hand to help him 
As affianced lover should. 



TBe Spirit of tfic far 197 



All the while the Literati 

And the charming little Belle 

In each others ears at evening 

Whispered words we should not tell. 

On this night a double wedding; 

Lyceum and little Belle, 
Literati, Philomathia, 

Feud and faction fare you well! 

Gay Belles Lettres, in her beauty, 
Proudly sits and reigns supreme. 

Future, one bright ray of sunshine- 
All the past a pleasant dream. 

Proud and strong the old Lyceum 
Boasts of deeds of valor done. 

Well he may; the midnight message 
Bears another he has won. 

Well he may, the midnight message 
Bears upon its winged flight 

News of welcome hope and triumph; 
Victory's in the air to-night! 



198 Poe:T2xs ©J S&nttm'&.nk 

We are on the field of action 
And our ranks are full and strong. 

We are marching on in triumph 
And we sing triumphant song. 

Let your strains be high and noble, 
Let your thoughts be pure and free. 

Lift the soul of man to heaven 
With your tuneful melody. 

Soon the contest will be over, 

Soon the victory be ours. 
Now I see the crown of roses— 

Breathe the fragrance of the flowers. 

Now I feel the soft, deep silence 

As it falls upon the air— 
Not a wave of breath is stirring, 

Naught but hearts are beating there. 

Sternly sit the thoughtful judges 
Head drooped low upon the palm, 

All around as death is silent. 
'Tis a hushed but anxious calm. 



T£e Spirit of tBe Hoar 199 



Calm precedes the mighty tempest 
Filled with dark destruction dire, 

Precedes when in the fiercest battle 
Burns a nation's soul on fire. 

Softly thru the calm light stealing 
Breathless moments flitter by; 

Sounding hearts beat louder, stronger, 
Every soul's in every eye ! 

Now, I see the judges rising, 

Heart throbs cease. The vote is cast. 
Sound the trumpet ! blow the bugle ! 

Normal victory at last ! 

We are marching on in triumph 
And the shining goal we view, 

Bright the scenes along our pathway 
Rich the odors we pass thru. 

And we ask you to stroll with us 
Thru the arbor of the hours, 

Plucking from the blooming present, 
Fairest of life's flowers. 



200 PoS.T22«, ©J Ssn2tlT22S.T2t' 



3'm a large blue-eyed maiden, 
With dark colored hair. 
But for a few frecks, you might 

Call my skin fair. 
I weigh just one hundred and sixty 

Five pounds; 
Wear a number nine shoe and walk 

Firm on the ground. 
My form is proportioned for strength 

More than beauty. 
I've been taught from my youth strict 

Adherence to duty; 
My muscles are strengthened by 

Kneading the bread, 
By sweeping the floor, 

And making the bed. 
My arms are developed, 

My shoulders are broad, — 
I carry four bushels 

Of coal at a load. 



# Ha*fceLT2Gl WoLiatcd 201 



I'm accustomed to doing 

All manner of labor, 
And have never been known 

To speak ill of my neighbor. 
I know how to care for 

Small children a score, 
And have never been known 

While sleeping, to snore. 
I have labored or studied 

Most all of my life 
And have had my full portion 

Of care and of strife. 
I am calm and composed, 

Never found in a hurry. 
Tho longing to change it 

My name rhymes with Curry. 

So far in my life 

I've had little enjoyment: 
Just toiled day by day 

At my household employment- 
Dusting the carpets, 

Washing the rugs, 
Cleansing upstairs, 

Scalding the bugs, 
Doing the washing and 

Hanging it high, 
Washing the dishes 

And wiping them dry; 
Herding the children 

And keeping them fed, 
Standing each unruly one on its head. 



^02 PoSlTMQ, of 5)£T2tlT22S."r2t 



It is true, here at school, 
I appear to be jolly; 

But 'tis only a feign 

To conceal melancholy. 

I am weary of living 

This kind of a life, 
And desire very much 

To become a man's wife. 
So I write to your paper: 

Perchance I may find, 
Some widower — bachelor— 

Suited to mind. 

I was, one time, particular 

Whom I should wed; 
But those vain, girlish notions 

With years have all fled. 
I now am indifferent 

Whom it shall be, — 
Tho youthful, or aged, — 

Tho blooming, or gray; 
Tho lofty, or lowly, 

Tho loved, or despised, 
A husband I want 

If such can be devised. 



I care not for beauty— 

I disregard worth; 
I dare not to choose 

Between falsehood and truth— 
But for a husband! 

Of whatever sort, 
A husband! a husband! 

My highest purport. 
I'm launched on life's sea 

Without anchor or sail, 
And shall sink 'neath the wave, 

If in marriage I fail. 
It is true, at my home 

A few years I might stay; 
But my youth and my beauty 

Will vanish away. 
And thruout my whole life, 

Like a dove without mate, 
In sorrow repine, 

And bewail my sad fate. 



P©eiT22§ ©€ Ss.T2tlT22€lT2t 204 

0, weather-worn widowers, 

Bachelors old, 
Miserly grumblers 

Crusty and cold, — 

men of all nations, 

Religions and creeds, 
For love and affection 

My very soul bleeds! 
So hear my appeal, 

And answer who can. 

1 have no selection, 

Just so its a man! 
Tho his eyes may be sky-blue, 

Or dark brown or yellow, — 
His complection be rosy, 

Or let it be sallow, — 
Tho his hair be black, .brown, gray, 

Or auburn, or white, — 
Just so it's a man 

With me it's all right! 



BirtBH^ of Two Yormg Levies 20b 



Biri/B3s>^/ o^ Two Yoai^g- 
Laches 

1 ♦ / PON this hour, we pluck the flower, 
*—J We grasp the moments fleeting, 
And let them bear away our care, 
'Tis joy that we are greeting! 

"lis joy we seek,— and faces meek, 
That glow with beams of pleasure, 

And sparkling eyes, where spirit lies, 
Extol our truest treasure. 

In youth's delight, we meet to-night 

In harmless dissipation; 
Two birthdays rare, of maidens fair, 

The cause of our elation. 



Why not rejoice with gladsome voice 
When beauteous maids are born? 

What purer theme of thought or dream 
Can music e'er adorn? 

Some years ago, we do not know 
How long— Within some cottage, 

Two maids were born. fate forlorn! 
Woe to the beans and pottage! 

As blossoms fair in balmy air 

Of summer's softest noon, 
These maidens bloomed in beauty rare — 
With sweetest face and sunny hair 
As soft as silvery rays of moon. 

Their eyes are blue as azure hue— 

Their faces fair as roses. 
Such sunny smiles and winning wiles, 
As king, or noblest count beguiles, 

Each feature now discloses. 

Miss Belle is fair, and tall, sedate 

As any jeweled queen, 
Her age, as Clinton does relate, 

Is saucy, sweet sixteen. 



BirtfiHa.^ <d€ Two Yoeo2gf La-cli&s SOT 

Miss Maggie, — Edgar told us so, 

He is our youthful sage — 
0, what a pretty little beau, 

For little girls his age — 

Young Edgar tells us that she grew 
For years, and years between, 

Her sixteenth and her eighteenth year, 
Yet still is sweet sixteen; 

But Forrest, wise in prophecies, 
And versed in laws and ladies, 

Who knows of aught that's dreamed or 
thought 
'Twixt heaven and earth and hades, 

With sober air, does now declare, 
Tho age may be augmented, 

That beauty's there as pure and rare 
As ever was invented,— 

That when she leaves his heart will go 
Out thru his bosom's portal, 

And Russell, Connor, Griswolds know 
His feelings not immortal. 



P©e:T2a$ ©J -SemtiTMs.'Q't' SO 8 

Tho Mr. Long may sing a song, 
And laugh and talk so cheery — 

May laugh and play thru all the day 
With countenance so merry, — 

The dismal day she goes away, 
His life will all be dreary. 

My bright-eyed boy, my hope, my joy, 
Young Edgar will be weeping. 

Sad, tear-dimmed eyes, deep soul-felt sighs, 
And young heart wildly beating! 

eyes of blue! What shall I do? 

I feel so broken-hearted! 

1 love her true— she loves rne too! 

Why need we ever parted? 

But youth must sigh, and age must die 
And love, and death, and birth, 

And age, and youth— the false, the truth, 
Must mingle into earth: 

Ah, when eternal years unfold, 
Know each his truest worth! 



fli£fB ,SG-8©e>f Literary 209 



f%£-.Sefi©©£ Lttersir^ 

; ith hearts filled with gladness, 
L Far free from all sadness, 
Our faces all smiling and full of delight- 
In mood that is merry, 
With countenance cheery, 

And eyes with pure' merriment sparkling 
bright: 

Again we are meeting, 
The welcome hour greeting, 

How happy we are it is with us at last' 
We now with satiety 
Greet our society, 

that these bright moments might vanish 
less fast! 

Has it ever occurred, 

Thru a thought or a word, 

To our minds what real joy's are upon us bestown ? 



310 P(D©-T22$ ©f 5>©.T2tlT22©T2t 



And do we all know, 
While so quickly they go, 
That they're gone and forever to never return? 
As the leaves on the trees, 
In the summer's soft breeze, 
Are nourished awhile, then turned to decay; 
As the delicate flower that blooms for an hour, 
Then withering, vanishing, passes away; 
So man from his glory returns to his clay. 
Ah, we in our bloom 
Must dread not the gloom; 
Tho joy of to-day may be grief of to-morrow- 
And life of to-day shall be lost in the tomb; 
It will but be increasing our trouble to borrow. 

How joyful we meet, 
In our home, or the street! 
How pleasant the faces in passing them by! 
Oh what earthly treasure, 
Exceeds the true pleasure 
Of meeting the glance of a sparkling eye! 



*%£ 5c6oof Literary 2H 

And here at our duty, 
In diffident beauty, 
How modest and calmly together we've dwelt! 
And how kind to each other! 
As sister and brother— 
what a real treasure is joy truly felt! 
Nor yet does our kindness 
Dilate into blindness 
Of cogent affection; but each self-possessed, 
And in perfect control 
Of mind, body and soul 
Continues his work; for he knows it is best. 
'Tis a custom in school— 
Ah too often the rule— 
Where the boys and the girls are all gathered 
together: 
That lessons are spurned, 
And attentions are turned 
Aside from the books, and no matter whether 
The school keeps or no, 
So the pretty girls go, 
The boys will attend, tho cold is the weather. 



SIS P0&T225 ©J Ss.n\Ams.n\l 

'Tis occasionally seen, 

And also I wean, 
That not only boys from their duties have varied: 

But of girls it is said 

The thought enters their head 
To abandon their studies sometimes and get 
married. 

But permit me to say 

That in this special way, 
Our school is as perfect as perfect can be 

For with sapient look, 

Each intent on his book, 
Has eyes fixed firm and quietly. 

sometimes a maiden 

With loving look laden, 
And heart overflowing with mischief and fun; 

With eyes keen as lances, 

Emits some soft glances; 
But they pass out the window and no harm is 
done. 

I'm confident, very. 

That if my friend Harry 
Was sitting in range he 'd be wounded by one. 



ftigfl 5©Boof Li'tercn^ 213 



Just in this connection, 

If there's no objection, 
I'll mention one case which I bear in my mind. 

And if I am erring, 

I pray you be sparing 
Of censure and blame, for I mean it all kind. 

Our Master McKeever 

Has been the receiver 
Of ogles and smiles from charming Miss Smith. 

Now note the advances— 

The sly little glances— 
They say Cupid uses to make mashes with. 

Tis not my intention 

To make an invention 
To injure the pride of this promising pair; 

But as an exception the case do I mention. 
Exceptions you know, must be mentioned with 
care. 

Dear classmates and schoolmates, on with 
our society, — 
Embrace each bright joy that is with us to-day, — 

In sweet peace and purity, pleasure and piety, 
Seek for the path to the loftier way. 



/£14 Poe.-m§ ©J •Se'rrtimerrat' 



I Mi** Tfiee 

♦ I Miss thee, blithe companion of my youth 
0/ As now the changing years move slow 
away, 
These times return, and now I know in truth 
I loved you in that bright and happy day. 

I miss thee now! The joys of vanished years, 
That long ago have blended with the past,. 

To me return, and now I see thru tears 

My folly of youth's day that flew so fast. 

Ah, had I spoken ere thy passion waned! 

Had I but shown the love I might have 
shown, 
And cheered thy heart so sorely: deeply pained? 
Both lives life's sweetest joys might long 
have known. 

Love's warmth and glow were crimsoned on thy 
cheek. 
Thy rosy lips oft met and re-met mine. 
Thou loved'st,but of love thou could'st not speak, 
Thou could'st but wait and let thy heart re- 
pine. 



I Miaa Tfee 2m 



I knew not then I loved thee; altho joy, 

The purest and the brightest filled my life. 

My heart was light— I was a care free boy, 

Until this sorrow filled my soul with strife. 

I miss thee! When thy fond heart, failing, turned 
Despairing, o'er the distant hills to rove, 

My conscience smote me, and my bosom yearned 
For love and thee. Ah, then I knew my love! 



^ I he ways of life have many thorns within. 

J-All being mortal, none are free from sin. 

Some sins are small, 'tis true, and others great; 

But all sin more or less or soon or late. 

Some paths have sorrow in them. Wrong deeds 

done, 
By self or others, frequently on one, 
Or innocent or guilty find their way, 
And he the debt thru suffering must pay. 
Injustice oft but half concealed lies, 
The world unfeeling, blinding Mercy's eyes. 



21(9 P©G.T22$ 0"P 5)eT2tlT2ae.T2t 



Air: "Yankee Doodle." 

t I he Normal bird is on its flight, 
-*- And this is what it sings, sir: 
"It fills my soul with pure delight 
To have another wing, sir." 

CHORUS. 

Normal wings are splendid things, 

They teach us how to fly, sir. 
Soon our shining normal wings, 

Will bear us to the sky, sir; 
Soar us high into the sky, 

So very, very far, sir. 
Normal pinions we will ply 

Above the little stars, sir. 



NovmoJ? WmgfS 2 IT 



"The sky is blue, 'tis month of spring, 
The sun is bright and warm, sir, 

I'll gaily swing my normal wing 
And do nobody harm, sir. 

CHORUS. 

"I'll upward fly into the sky, 

And sing with all my might, sir, 

But, close beside the Normal, I 

Shall choose my place to light, sir." 

CHORUS. 

The legislature passed a law, 

And we must now rejoice, sir. 

Each Normalite should shout, hurrah! 
As long as he has voice, sir. 

CHORUS. 

A thousand students here in school, 
A thousand here to board, sir, 

To have so many grow up fools, 
The state could not afford, sir. 

CHORUS. 

And so it passed the bill at last, 
A very pleasant thing, sir. 

wont we fly both far and fast 

When we get our new wing, sir? 

CHORUS. 



/£18 Poe.T22$ ©J Se-T2ttm<s.nk 

Our regents all were good and true, 
And fought for us most brave, sir. 

Hurrah! It now is carried through, 
And we have what we crave, sir! 

CHORUS. 

0, now our song is at an end, 
We have no more to sing, sir. 

Go tell it forth to foe and friend, 
We have a Normal Wing, sir. 

CHORUS. 



♦ | know where the deep blue violets bloom 
0/ Down the dewy glade and grassy dell, 
And where pink roses waft perfume, 

On the summer breeze I know full well. 

And I know where a rarer blossom blooms, 
A Rose, more fair than fairest flowers, 

Her breath more sweet than floral fumes— 
Her face more fair than floral bowers. 



Oar Friend, ^SisW 219 



Oar Frierecl, ^I3iea 

♦ I Irifting o'er life's troubled ocean, 
(o^-^ Many gems fall in the deep. 
Life is loss, oft sad emotion 

Thrills our being, oft we weep. 

Brightest beams have shape of shadow — 
Purest gold its sign of dross. 

Thistles grow in every meadow- 
Love nor life is free from loss. 

So we bear our heart's deep sorrow. 

While we bid our friend adieu. 
Hopes and prayers for her to-morrow, 

All our inmost thoughts imbue." 



M 



LL,S"IT2 



I watched the yellow twilight fall. 
December day was dying — 
The evening winds were sighing, 

Thru tops of oaks and sycamores tall. 



220 P©e/r22$ ©J ,S€:T2tlT22S.T2t 



♦ t— J las, he's gone! How soon hopes perish! 
QJ J- Scarce twenty summers lit his face. 
Alas, how quickly those we cherish, 
Fall within Death's cruel embrace! 

Tender-hearted, good and true, 

Hopeful, cheerful to the end. 
Kind he was to all he knew. 

To know him was to be his friend. 

But six short days ago I met him, 

Young and handsome, strong and brave; 

Now, to-day, I helped to let him 
Down into the silent grave. 

Yes, he's gone from earth and men. 

Within the dark, cold grave he lies. 
may we meet our friend again, 

In happy realms beyond the skies! 



G©T22T22<s:T2©e-m<2:'rct' Poe:T22 221 



Higj-B-Se^oot 
Commencement Poem 

>^UCH lovely flowers surround my class* 
„, * ) mates' feet! 
Of rarest, richest hues and odors swe et. 
welcome to our midst, each gentle flower, 
Choice emblem of the gladness of the hour! 

We graduate to-day, this eve at last, 

With gladsome hearts we know we all have 

passed, 
And that the prize which we so long have sought 
Is won at last— sweet recompense for though t. 

We meet before you now with hearts most gay, 
Upon our long-sought graduating day; 
To tell you of the work that we have done, 
The time we've spent, the victory we've won ; 
To acknowledge our receipt of favors shown — 
Make known our gratitude for joys bestown. 



friends, when weary weeks and years of toil, 

Unceasing worry, trouble and turmoil, — 

Mid books and slates and note books soiled and 

worn — 
Mid dust and ink and bits of paper torn, — 
With lessons all too hard and far too many, 
We strive to learn them all and fail of any — 
Then called to class with lessons half way thru 
The hardest answers falling all on you, — 
With all these schoolday troubles o'er and gone 
How pure the joy at last when we have won! 

Unfettered now, we're free to spend the day 
In conversation, music, dance or play. 
No binding duty now, no ironclad rule 
Controls our every action as at school. 

No tiresome algebraic sum to solve, 

No geometric proof to demonstrate, 

No philosophic dogma to evolve, 

No clause in constitution to relate; 

And, thanks to fate, if mortal thanks will please 

her, 
We're done with Aesop's fables and with Caesar. 



GoT22T22€.T2G€-T22€:T2t' Poeim 223" 

With all our studies thru and laid aside, 
There's naught but joy can to our lot betide. 
With duty done, our conscience free and clear,. 
We have no earthly doubt, no slightest fear, 
But that the misty future, yet to be, 
Will prove to us a calm, unruffled sea. 

A silken veil now pends before our eyes, 
Of width unknown, and reaching to the skies y 
Around its breadth, and o'er its lofty height, 
The searching gaze is lost in dismal night. 
Beyond this veil the hidden future lies, 
Whose realm is blended with eternities. 

And skies of calm and peace we hope will be 
O'er spreading lands of wealth and industry — 
And shining shores, where, written in the sand,. 
In mystic lore, by the Almighty's hand, — 
All-knowing wisdom, potent power of mind, 
The book of fate, the destiny of mankind. 



224 Poerezs ©J Ss.T2'h'T22e:T2t' 



Each hour forsakes some pleasure of to-day, 
To swell the role of memories of the past. 

Each moment bears some cherished joy away, 
Nor knows nor cares how long our pleasures 
last. 

The future is a vast, unbroken plain, 

Thru which we tread the weary way of life. 

To some it bringeth pleasure, others pain. 

It yieldeth flowers of ease and thorns of strf e. 

We stand to-night upon its unknown shore, 

And vainly strive to find our journey thru; 

But dark, and dreary, lies the way before, 

With power and pride and passion to subdue. 

By side of virtue's elevated highway, 

There lies a many a path that leads to sin, 

Full many a shady dell and tempting byway, 
To lure the unsuspecting stranger in. 

The youth strays oft amid these scenes inviting, 
Enraptured all their beauties to behold, — 

His happiness and hopes forever blighting, 
Too quickly fade the glitter and the gold! 



GoT22122e:T2©e.T22eiT2t' Poe:T22 225 



And, vanishing before him like a vision, 

Each beauty fades, each charm full quickly 
goes; 
In his distress, dishonor, and derision, 

Finds promised joys fulfilled with bitter 
woes. 

Sore pained by what he deemed to be sweet 
pleasure; 
Betrayed, distressed, bewildered and dis- 
mayed, 
He flings away his one God-given treasure, 

Honor, the hold by which his trust was 
stayed. 

No message from this realm may we obtain, 
No star to guide the wandering human train! 
While all our hopes to reach its shining shore 
Frustrate and vanish, till they are no more. 

While speaking of the future, it is true, 
Another side of life is brought to view. 
For in the fondest memories of the past, 
Are countless joys, which vanish all so fast, 
'Tis pain to think they never may return. 
With keen regret our pensive bosoms burn; 
While in the time to come, it may contain 
The purest joy, and yet the keenest pain: 
And truly, half our duties are not done— 
* 'Thus endeth the first lesson we've begun." 






226 Posrae, ©J .Ss'ntimerrat' 



Our trials of life as yet remain undone; 

The day we've passed is brightest in our lot. 
Then why rejoice because the past is gone? 

That all its pleasant memories be forgot? 

Ah, youth is but a bright, sunshiny, day! 

It bears, and buds and blooms the fairest 
flowers 
That ever grew from earth and mortal clay. 
Alas, so soon we see its closing hours! 

Each day that passes sinks beneath the wave 
Of time's dull tide some joy that ne'er may 
rise 

Till Time, himself shall moulder in his grave, 
Or, living, bear it on dull memories! 

So, may we meet our future destined fate, 

As trusty soldiers brave the stormy fight; 

Nor .suffer strength and valor to abate, 

Till victors in the cause of truth, and right! 

Classmates, the time soon comes when we must 
sever. 
Earth's closest friendship's all must have 
an end. 
0, may the purest joys be yours forever! 

Is the loving wish of your classmate and 
friend- 



G©r2rme.T2oe.T22er2t' P0&T22 227 



And, dear Professor, thru life's bleak December 
And smiling June, your face I'll ever see! — 

All thru my life I ever shall remember 

The loving kindness you have shown to me! — 

And, Parents, dear, whose loving care has guided 
My childish footsteps to this happy hour, — 

Whose every trust so faithfully confided,— 
I'll love and cherish long as I have power! 



228 P©€lT22$ ©J SeLTl^m&ni 



How KinS 

^\— f ow kind you were! How kind you weret 
_] \ To me the favor you have shown 
Is highest fortune could confer 
Upon a being like my own. 

You were so kind! my simple lines 

Are powerless to express the thought, 

Or feeling reason close confines 

Within my breast with fullness fraught. 

So kind, and yet a little cold. 

You would not take my proffered arm. 
I offered it — who could withhold— 

To keep you from the ice's harm. 

Tho quickly passed the eve away, 

Its pleasant memories still so bright, 

Within my mind shall always stay 
And ever lend a beam of light. 



How Kma 229 



And yet one cloud, I must confess, 

Hangs o'er the scene and will not leave- 
Brings saddest thoughts I can't suppress, — 
I know about to-morrow eve. 

Ah, when to-morrow's shades are thrown, 
I'll don my skates in dreamy mood, 

To glide the star-lit stream alone, 
And joy in nature's solitude. 

For after all our truest friends 

Are those small shining orbs, the stars, 
They alter not— each ever lends 

Its rays to lighten earthly cares. 

The stars are friends, both true and old. 

Within their depths I joy to find 
Warm comfort; for the world is cold, 

And many burdens weight my mind. 

So thru the wood, beneath the skies, 
I'll roam o'er fields of frozen ice; 

While with your parlor friends you prize 
The pleasure I must sacrifice. 



2J30 P©eLT22§ ©J 3s.T2tlT22&12t' 



Ji Song", Eata Lee 

♦ I ^low, ye winds, o'er the valley, 

(5^ — * Blow, ye winds, o'er the lea. 
Waft the sail of sweet Allie 

Home to me, home to me; 
Like the swift, fleeting waters, 

Flowing down to the sea, 
Haste, pride of Anan's daughters, 

My, own, sweet Eula Lee. 

Soft breathed the zephyrs, green grew the spring, 

Wild flowers blooming — birds caroling — 

All thru the valley roved we so free. 

I learned to love sweet Allie, my own sweet 

Eula Lee. 
I learned to love sweet Allie, my own Eula Lee. 



ifl SoT2gj, Eafa. Lee 231 

Eula Lee, Eula Allie! 

Eula Lee, Eula Lee! 
Oh the pride of the valley, 

My own "Cara wee!" 
And as wide as the ocean, 

And as deep as the sea, 
Is the depth of my devotion, 

My own, sweet Eula Lee. 

Sere grew the wild wood, winter so cold, 
Browned hill and valley — all a dark, dreary wold; 
Wild storms were raging, mountains filled the sea, 
I lost, I lost forever, my own Eula Lee. 
I lost, I lost forever, my own sweet Eula Lee. 

Eula Lee! Eula Allie! 

Eula Lee! Eula Lee! 
Oh the pride of the valley, 

My own Eula Lee, 
Oh as long as the river 

Rolls down to the sea 
I will love, ah love forever, 

My own sweet Eula Lee. 



232 P©e:-m§ of ^5eT2tiT22siT2t 



Rest 

^ j— i ere let me rest, within this peaceful grot, 
_J \ Afar from noise of city and from men, 
Where none molest; I seek this silent spot, 

That Nature's smiles may warm my soul 
again. 

Afar from home, from loving mother, far 
Out in the world, my heart is lone to-day, 

I long for rest, — my inmost feelings are 

Athirst for solace, love and home. I pray, 

And, in this peaceful place I hope to find 
What busy ways of men can never give, 

Sweet rest and solace for my soul and mind, 
And joy, that treasured in my heart may live! 

My heart is cold, no fuel warms within. 

My soul is weary, and my life is lone. 
Time, return the pleasures that have been! 

Restore the years of happiness that have 
flown. 



Rest 233 



Despondent soul, rich joys may still be thine, 
If thou but choose e'er all of joy has flown. 

Let light of love, and purest virtue shine: 
Thine happiness lies within thy self alone. 

Choose for thy self some little grot of peace; 
Build there a home, in happiness there 
dwell. 
Forsake the world. Ah, then will sorrow cease! 
Then love will heal thy wound and make- it 
well. 



Ha-roif-H^/ 



* \ X / ound not more deeply this poor heart. 
^ * Crush not this life entire. Apart 
From thine it cannot be. 
Help thou this sorrowing soul to live, 

Who lives with but the hope to give 
His life, his all to thee. 



234 Poerrxs ©J ibemti-me.-rct" 

A Home Be^/orcS 
hat joy to be sure of a home beyond! 




/ 

A "home of the pure and the blest." 

We long but for peace and rest. 

The pleasures of which we were once so fond, 

We would sacrifice now, and would sever each 

bond 

To bow at our Maker's behest. 

We are sorrowing mortals at best. 
And have need of another — a home beyond. 
To-day an old lady had struggled and striven 

But vainly, to climb to her farm wagon seat. 
It was close to my office her wagon was driven. . 

I steadied her tottering feet. 
Her strength was exhausted, her form dried 
and shriveled. 

She drove off alone thru the street. 
Some one's fond, trusting wife, 

Some one's dear, loving mother. 
Toil, grief, in this life 

Give her piece in another. 



If You Were %Z M-Z Sn&e. 235 



Ij Yoa Were % % S3e 

♦ I F you were by my side, my dear, 
0/ I'd ask no other boon. 
No grief, or sorrow know or fear, 

For all would vanish soon. 
If you were by my side. 

If you were by my side, what care 
Would enter in my thought, 

Of what the world and people are — 
Of good or evil wrought? 

If you were by my side. 

If you were by my side, the hours, 
How swiftly would they flee! 

While strolling thru the fields of flowers, 
Or sitting 'neath the tree, 

With you close by my side. 



236 Pe>S:T22S ©J ^®.T2tirr2SLT2't' 



If you were by my side, my heart 
Would beat in quickest measure, 

And in my breast emotions start 
To thrill me thru with pleasure. 

If you were by my side. 

If you, my dear, were by my side. 

How bright would home life be, 
How sweetly would the moments glide, 

With only you and me — 
And you close by my side! 

How bright would be the whole of life, 

Tho joy or sorrow come, 
With you, my loving little wife, 

Within our hallowed home, 
Forever by my side! 



M 



U.J§>~\T2 



v^ome tall, white sycamores in the dis- 

* J tance rise, 

With background bold of darkbrown tufts 
of leaves. 
The meadows blend with forest, trees meet 
skies. 
Below the sombre river sleeps at ease. 



BiVt/Bcla.^ ,Sa.rp-ri;s>E. Pa.rt^ 237 



Emporia, Nov. 24,— '91. 

♦ I ^ lithe spirits who, upon my natal day, 
(O^— J With music, mirth and laughter 

light and gay, 
Swooped down as merry angels from the skies, 
And startled me with gladsome, sweet surprise— 
You jolly boys and girls who used your power 
To banish toil and gladden one short hour, 
Who found for one brief season, tho 'twas brief, 
From all the cares of living whole relief, 
And brightened with your smiles and beamings 

bright 
Of sparkling eyes, the sombre winter night— 
Light was my heart the evening you did come. 
Most welcome, ever welcome to my home! 



238 PoeiT22$ of S&xittmeLnk 

So studiously engaged, I had no thought 

That there were schemes of mischief to be 

wrought 
So earnest and so innocent that I 
When called, excused myself, and made reply 
Would go and soon return and then complete 
The outline we were trying to repeat. 
But lo! as I approached the room, appeared 
A throng within that thickened as I neared. 
The windows all were filled with tufts of heads, 
The doors wide open crowded — both the beds, 
Well burdened— each I think bore more than 8, 
Were groaning and complaining neath the weight. 
And sounds— what a clatter reached my ears! 
What feelings rose within and roused my fears! 

Had some menagerie been broken loose, 
And gathered in my room? Had flocks of goose, 
Or other silly fowl from distant flight, 
There lodged to spend in gabble all the night? 
Had coyotes from the prairies gathered in, 
To feast and revel there with noisy din? 
Tho bird, or beast or reptile, they had come, 
And raised, it seemed, a pandemonium! 



Not so, it proved* what discord we had deemed 
The purest flow of harmony now seemed. 
Not so, not so! The sounds when better known, 
Were musical and soft. Sweet rhythmic tone 
Flowed thru the medly as does sweet perfume 
The summer breezes when the blossoms bloom. 
Bright faces beamed amid the joyous throng — 
Blithe feeling flowed in rich, melodious song, 
And all around, and on the evening air 
Were many mingling voices. Perfumes rare 
Pervaded all the atmosphere — in short— 
Young people there had gathered for their sport. 

A rousing cheer on entering— a song— 

A speech, a speech, a speech, but not too long— 

A round and round of plays and deep charades — 

The mirthful songs of merry men and maids. 

A genial spirit moves the happy lot. 

The evening soon is past but not forgot. 



240 P©<S:T2Q$ ©J ^5eT2tlT22®.T2't' 

No, not forgot! Oblivion's deep gloom 
Ne'er shrouds bright scenes of pleasure. Flow- 
ers bloom 
And fade, and sweetest perfumes pure and rare, 
Embalm with all their richness all the air. 
Tho every scene of pleasure, each glad hour, 
Doth fade away as doth the summer flower, 
The perfumes, the sweet spirit which they give, 
Embalm our lives and cheer us while we live. 

memory! The purest thoughts we know— 
The feelings from profoundest depths that flow, 
Emotions that from holiest sources rise, 
And tears, most sacred that bedim the eyes, 
Are borne on thy dull pages! When we read, 
Earth's deepest joy or sorrow is our meed! 



Tfte flG^o^feHgercemt 241 



T~Be iIc^T2owfe3ge-o'2eT2't 



On Breaking Thru the Ice on East Lake, Emporia. 



^r 



♦ I 've naught to say, I gladly would 
0/ Efface the memory if I could. 
I've naught to say, the fatal eve 
Has left me saddest cause to grieve. 
'Twere better could we but forget 
What causes deep and sore regret, 
Much better could we doff the thought 
That in the soul such ruin wrought. 

When brightest joys have from us flown. 
When sorrow, 'cross our path is thrown, 
When highest hopes that we have held 
Have from our bosom been expelled, 
When all is lost and we bemoan 
Our lot and tread our way alone, 
DWhen fondest wish, most strong desire, 
Are vanquished, trodden in the mire; 



'242 Poerae, Of ,Se:T2tlT22©T2t 



then, how can we longer hold 
Our courage, how be longer bold? 
-As well submit to destiny, 
Acknowledge our humility— 
Yield then unto the powers that be! 

Youth leads a many a wayward one 
To doing deeds best left undone, 
And pleasure lures us past our reason 
"When we go skating out of season. 

*Tis royal fun the ice to try, 

But not so near the month July. 

*Tis rarest sport to gayly skate, 

Long afternoon, or evening late, 

Or early morn, or hour of noon— 

No time too late, no time too soon 

To try the ice, unless perchance, 

You find before you far advance, 

The solar-heated summer ray— 

The calor of the cloudless day — 

Have warmed and weakened with their heat 

Until it yields beneath your feet, 

And breaks and plashes, down you go 

To cold uncanny depths below. 



T6e flc^T2©-wfe%erae.T2t 243- 

cold uncanny depths of sea! 
For thus, indeed, it seemed to me, 
That when we sank beneath the wave, 
No soul to pity, none to save, 
The peaceful, quiet, shallow lake 
For ocean depths we did mistake, 
And for the moment thought that we 
Had sank into an arctic' sea. 

dreadful scene! Ill-fated night! 

beauteous maid in wretched plight! 

With dainty feet deep in the mire — 

Entangled tresses— torn attire— 

Her grace and dignity all lost 

Mid mud and slush-ice helpless tossed, 

In cold indignity to stand 

And hold a'helpless creature's hand, 

Who, tho he" strove with might and main 

Was powerless to withdraw again, 

To raise again the heavy load 

Of muddy feet from out the mud! 



^>44 Posma, ©J ^s.T2liT2^e.T2t' 

'Tis said, but then it is not true, 

By Mr. Huffman, that we threw 

The ice from out the banks all round— 

That earthquake tremble jarred the ground. 

He further adds the bit of news— 

We bore the water 'way in shoes, 

And that the bottom now is dry. 

And little fishes gasp and die. 

'Tis true the fishes came to see 

What shook the lake so frightfully, 

And lobsters loitered very near, 

As over anxious they should hear. 

No life was lost, but I declare 
I was not happy to be there! 
I was not glad while falling in, 

Nor afterwards. I was not warm, 
My clothes somehow seemed very thin, 
And heavier far than lead or tin — 

But I presume there was no harm. 
My collar spoiled, my dainty tie 
Was mussed and soiled most shamefully. 



On reaching home it took more time 
To cleanse my clothes than write this rhyme. 
My knee was bruised most painfully, 
But had no camphor to apply. 

The night was warm, the sky was clear, 

Save here and there, some far some near, 

White clouds would poise and sometimes hide 

The clear blue sky, and oft denied 

The moonbeams unobstructed sway 

To come unto the earth to play— 

And sometimes they would hide a star 

That cast its tiny light so far; 

But, changing, left each plummet light 

To sound the silent depths of night. 

The evening zephyrs gently moved 
Among rich beauties dearly loved. 
Caressing those they loved the best— 
The placid lake, the hill's brown crest, 
The lovely vale, the stately wood, 
Its vast and mighty solitude. 



246 PoeT72^ of Se.ntime.rik 

They blew along the sparkling rill, 

Moved o'er Quivera's vale and hill, 

And blessed the soil that is to bring 

The violets of early spring. 

And still the moonbeams downward shone, 

Pale lustre, as that orb alone, 

With trembling, shimmering, rays of light 

Casts o'er the world in silent night. 

I thought of home, I thought of love. 

I wished there would a white- winged dove 

Bring bill of straw from Ararat, 

Or from some other place like that, 

So high and dry that we might know 

There was aught else than ice and snow. 

Two travelers soon came along, 
And here must close my little song. 
I now your sympathy implore, 

With solemn promise that I will 
Go out a skating never more 

Unless the snow is on the hill; 
Unless each sign of summer's growth 
Is smitten by the winds of North, 
Unless each bird from heaven's dome, 
Has flown unto his southern home; 



Unless each brook and all the ground 
For fathoms deep with ice are bound; 
And all the lake is frozen so, 
No water lies in depths below; 
And o're the mud, so loose and soft, 
Because we mixed it up so oft, 
Is frozen firm encugh instead 
To bear a mighty army's tread! 
No, not until the briny sea 
Shall form a skating pond for me, 
And everywhere, from shoal and firth, 
Unto the central depths of earth, 
Shall be transfixed in solid state: 
No, not till then will I go skate! 
But then if moonlight's silver sheen 
Falls o'er the world, and stars between 
Peep out from cloudy mists of spray 
And make the winter eve so gay! 
Then, can I find a merry mate, 
Of less than half a ton in weight— 
If all the earth is sure and firm, 
And sea is solid, safe from harm, 
To gayly sport, to dissipate, 
Again will I go out to skate. 



2J48 P©en?2$ ©f issnTtirras/ret 



V^ffe^ Faffs ffig-B 5©fi©of , 1893 

* \ X / HEN ^ ay * s ^- a * r > an( * balmy air 

V V Breathes o'er the blooming meadow, 
Improve the hour, secure the flower, 
Ere evening shapes its shadow. 

When life is May, and all is gay, 

And there is joy in being, 
Go grasp the moments while you may. 

Old time is swiftly fleeing. 

Go grasp the moments while you may, 

No beauty but does perish. 
The fairest flower fades in an hour. 

Love dies when naught does cherish. 

How fast time flies! Could men devise 

A means to change her flight, 
How long would flow the sun's warm glow! 

How soon would cease the night! 



tf£W272i Posra 249 



Time's tide e'er flows without repose, 

And, like a mighty river, 
Its waves e'er move thru cave and cove 

Adown its course forever. 

Some months of school, some weeks of toil, 
Some joy and sometimes sorrow, 

The hours move on, the day is gone, 
'Tis night, and soon to-morrow 

Moves slowly past, yet far too fast, 

Too soon the year is ended, 
And with the dim and changeless past 

Forevermore lies blended. 

The year is gone, how very soon 

'Tis o'er and all is finished! 
To ne'er return, our hearts still yearn 

For joy that with it vanished. 

Old time moves on, the old year gone 

Lies peacefully reposing; 
But with its death we feel the breath 

Of joys anew disclosing. 



For winter drear doth disappear, 

And softly, deftly stealing, 
Across the mead comes gentle Spring, 

Her beauty all revealing. 

And rays of light succeed the night. 

Each evening shape of shadow, 
At dawn of day is driven way 

Across the dewy meadow. 

Rich perfumes rare embalm the air, 
Bright beauties beam before us, 

And birds and bees on flowers and trees 
Sing nature's sweetest chorus. 

As beams of day and songs of May, 

And wavy, dewy grasses, 
And flowers and fields, the old year yields 

To us her senior classes. 

And fair as flowers from blooming bowers,. 
And pure as rays from heaven, 

The kind old year, with goodly cheer, 
Her class to-night has given. 



flfcmarn PeeTM 251 



We welcome you of Ninety-two, 

And greet you with true pleasure. 

In greeting you we gain a new 

And priceless twelve-fold treasure. 

I wonder while the season's smile, 
And day of sunshine passes, 

What e'er will be the destiny 
Of our Alumni classes. 

All who have passed,— misfortune vast- 
Regret and grief commingle — 

Save only four, f orevermore 
And hopelessly are single! 

Ah, foolish boys! It so annoys, 

One's soul with grief it ladens — 

To live and grieve thru life and leave 
The girls to be old maidens! 

But, could we scan the Maker's plan — 
The schedule of the ages— 

And plainly read our dole or meed 
Upon the future pages, 



2i)2 P(DS:T?2$ ©J ^5e.T2ti*T22®:T2t' 



could we see our destiny, 

And know what lies in waiting, 
Then could we grasp a certainty, 
And act unhesitating. 

Hearts young and true of Ninety-Two, 

In youthful exultation, 
We all despairing turn to you 

To alter our relation. 

Eer worthless winds absorb the dew, 
Ere sunny seasons slumber, 

Eer bachelors and maids are you, 
Redeem our mournful number! 

But all in vain, prophetic ken 

And spirit lie abated, 
As all save two of Ninety-Two 

Are doomed to be unmated. 

1 plainly see the destiny 

Of Arthur, thou a stranger 
With golden head to him is wed. 
He is a sturdy granger. 



fl£m22T21 P0ST22 253 



I see him now behind the plow, 

A mule and pony, slow and weak. 

His Phoebe, with a bonnet on, 

Is planting pumpkins by the creek. 

In over-alls and cover-alls, 

With heavy winter stogas on, 

He little cares, nor never swears, 
Altho his field's a boggy one: 

For joy's sweet trace is in his face 
And peace is in his mind, 

And little Ned with golden head, 
Is toddling long behind. 

Miss Minnie M. has changed her plan 
For she has wedded happily 

A bearded-faced Alliance-man 
Who talks about monopoly. 

But all the rest are still unblest. 

I don't know what they're doing. 
I only see, unhappily, 

They're neither wed nor wooing. 



v£l)4 PoeT22$ ©J Sentiment 

In village cot, or rural grot, 
There's joy for each of you 

As man and wife in wedded life 
In its relations true. 

In time to come, within the home 
Where you may choose to dwell, 

Must soothe the kiss of mortal bliss, 
Or seethe a mortal hell. 

Make good thy choice, thy glad rejoice 
Shall echo thru the years; 

But if thou fail thy sad bewail 
Will sound thru dismal fears. 

And every trace of beauty's grace 
Be washed away in tears! 

To sail life's main for bliss or bane, 
Mount not the billows blindly; 

For hidden rocks deal fatal shocks 
Most cruel and unkindly. 

Life first may seem an airy dream, 
We're trusting, and confiding; 

But soon or late we desecrate 
The wrong that is presiding. 



jflfam-m Poem 2£)i> 



Foul lying fiends for evil ends — 
Dark traitors deeply scheming — 

May blight fair fames and tarnish names 
That ne'er of wrong were dreaming. 

The world moves on, forever on, 

Unfeeling and uncaring. 
Beneath the wrong, hearts true and strong, 

Are trampled down despairing. 

Tho there is joy without alloy, 

Where hearts have truly striven, 

Most bright it beams when one redeems 
A soul with grief that's riven. 

When hearts are light and thoughts are true r 

And soul's are in a measure, 
What is there mortals cannot do 

With passion, pain, or pleasure! 

A realm of peace, an hour of grace, 

Oft pass before my vision; 
Where, free from strife, eternal life 

Brings promised joys elysian — 



2i)<£> Poe.T22e, of S®T2tlT2^S:T2t 



Where mortals meet new friends to greet. 

And smile in old renewals, 
And pass away life's happy May, 

And wear its brightest jewels. 

And now it stands in sunny lands, 

In all its bloom and glory. 
Destined to glow in beauty grand 

Thru age serene and hoary. 

1 'And rhythmic runes of dreamy Junes 
Like tinkling fountains flow, 

And golden bells in fairy dells 
Are chiming sweet and low." 

But have no fear, forever near 

Lies one sweet consolation— 
To know that your own heart is pure, 

Tho all the world suspicion. 

When troubles boil with loud turmoil 

Within your beating breast, 
Resort to rhyme, and tears and time 

Will count your wrongs redressed. 

Let kindly act each hour employ, 

Each moment muse o'er sacred thought. 



flfeiT22T21 Po&ra 21)7 

Let no foul deed or word annoy 

Your feelings with pure kindness fraught. 

And if you choose to soar your muse 

In upper realms of rhyme, 
Note well the height you take your flight, 

Then let pegasus climb. 

Then choose your theme and muse and dream 
O'er beauties bright and vernal. 

No longer pore o'er written lore, 
Seek nature's truth, eternal. 

In cantos or in folios, 

You let your genius burn; 
When years unroll your finished scroll, 

You find your rich return. 

Elysian thought, Utopian theme, 

Chimeric, crystal flower! 
Fair fancy's flight, a poet's dream: 

God speed the golden hour! 

But "rhythmic runes of dreamy Junes, 

And wealth of blooming lea, 
Are not of rhyme, are not of time, 

But cycles yet to be." 



>£i)8 Pos:t^2$ ©J S&nftm&nt 



Pfi 1 1 0T2^ atfil 8V.T2 

December 16, 1891. 

* \ X / HEN hearts are light, when thoughts are 
V V true, 

When souls are in a measure, 
What is there mortals cannot do 

With passion, pain or pleasure? 

Awhile ago — three months or so — 

Or more, 'twas in September, 
A little band where now we stand, 

Enrolled its first new member. 

No prospects bright were in their sight, 

No shining goal allured them. 
Yet will to work, and power to do, 

Success had soon assured them! 

The little band disdained to stand: 

But marching onward ever, 
Due height attained— due honor gained, 

To crown their high endeavor. 



PtinfomeitfSiena 259 



It grew as grows the healthy child 
By sweetest richness nourished. 

It grew as grows the thrifty vine 
In tenderness that's cherished. 

As strong it grew as forests do— 
As fair as flowers in meadow— 

Nor o'er its day of happy May, 
Was cast one shape of shadow. 

And now it stands in sunny lands, 

In all its bloom and glory. 
Destined to glow in beauty grand 

Thru age serene and hoary. 

And what has wrought this realm of thought 

To consecrate this union? 
What genius binds as one the minds 

That hold this sweet communion? 

The cheerful aid of men and maids 

Who make of duty pleasure, 
The priceless dower of youth and power 

Have gathered here this treasure. 



%(80 P©e:T22$ oj ■SsiT2tll22e:T2t' 

And now we meet new friends to greet, 
And joy in old renewals, 

To pass away youth's happy day, 
And wear its brightest jewels. 

Here orators of power unknown, 
Of lofty mien and station,— 

In bugle blast and trumpet tone, 
Do sway a state or nation. 

And eloquence in rhythmic flow, 
With smooth and even metre: 

While gesture neat and poise complete, 
But render all completer. 

Here beauty beams where spirit gleams 
In eyes with lustre glowing: 

And heart's of fire throb love's desire, 
And souls are overflowing. 

But oh how soon this sweet commune, 
These scenes of pleasure vanish, 

The bubbles burst — the very worst, 
Our flights of favor finish. 



P"Bl'f©T2Qa.t'"Bl8a2 26t 



The power and pride that here preside— 
The beauty that is beaming — 

The wealth and worth— the joys of earth — 
But fabled themes of dreaming. 

A merry Christmas to you all! 

A happy holiday! 
High hope, good cheer, soon comes the call, 

To feast and dance and play. 

High hope! good cheer! the happy hour 

Soon joyfully will come, 
In village cot or rural bower, 

To greet our friends at home! 



Re^age 



the world is wide around us! 

Paths are filled with faltring feet. 
Woeful sights each day confound us. 

Lead us to a safe retreat. 



262 P©GT22$ ©J* Ss.T2\jme.Tl\l 

3 Feel like rhyming some to-night. 
I guess I'll go and get my pen, 
And ink, and paper, and a light, 

And give my muse the reins again. 

I feel like rhyming very much, 

But think of nothing good to say. 

So rather than to write on such, 
I'd better put the pen away. 

Yes, so I shall. Down goes the pen— 
And back the paper, out the light. 

I'll reign pegasus up again. 

No rhyming out of me to-night. 

But this is foolish, is it not? 

To end a poem on the brink 
Of writing it? Halt on the spot, 

And never try at all to think? 

Altho it is, I little care, 

I've studied till Fve pained my head. 
I'll wash my feet and comb my hair, 

Puff the light and off to bed. 



Fai-eM/ef f Of 3 Nei-maf Haf fa 263 



FareWetf Of 3 Normaf Haf fa 

Tune; "Old Glory." 

Mour years or more of toil are o'er. 
Q\ Bright years of schoolday life. 

What pleasant scenes have gone before! 

So free from care and strife! 
So merrily the moments flee, 

Thru long, bright years of June! 
Forever be their memory 

Life's rarest, richest, boon. 

CHORUS. 

Farewell, farewell, old Normal halls! 

Dear friends a fond adieu. 
Farewell, farewell, our duty calls, 

Life's work we must pursue. 



264 Posies ©J Ssmti 



ST2VIT22<£T21 



When classed as A the Normal way 

Seemed thorny, rough and rude; 
Yet B and C and D and G 

Were hopefully pursued. 
Now joyfully the end we see, 

We laugh at former fears, 
And almost sigh to say good-bye 

To all those hallowed years. 

The way was long, tho hearts so strong, 

So loyal, good and true, 
Found naught to turn the eager throng 

That marched the journey thru. 
A hundred fold, our army bold 

Now hails the goal in view. 
All hail the goal, farewell the old! 

Farewell old Normal too! 

So now farewell, old Normal bell! 

No more we heed thy call, 
No more we hear thy music swell 

Thru corridor and hall. 
Forever dear, our schoolday here 

Each heart with love reveres. 
memory, sweet memory, 

Of all those hallowed years! 



#fo.T2272i Reception 265 



Azzimui Reception 
fligfi ScySoof, 1890 




here are times in our lives when, with joy 

overflowing, 
Our hearts and our souls have been carried 
away, 
We cannot refrain from revealing, from showing, 
Our happiness springing from life's merry 
May. 

Young men and women! With life all before us! 

And all of its sacredest pleasures unknown. 
The beauties of nature around us and o'er us— 

The safeguard of learning about us been 
thrown— 

What more do we ask? What fanciful pleasure 
Could add to our happiness here upon earth? 

where may we seek for a costlier treasure, 
Than that we are seeking, our true mental 
worth? 



266 Poems ©J Sentiment 

In nature's'whole field, is there any employment, 
By searching it over and over, we find, 

Produces more pleasure, or purer enjoyment, 
Than seeking for truth to enlighten the mind ? 

And, having acquired it, may we enjoy it! 

And realize all of the bliss it contains. 
In the author's wide field, or where e'er we 
employ it, 

We're sure 'twill repay us for all of our pains! 

We are not to rejoice over mammon or booty, 
Which we may obtain from the prize we 
have won; 
But in sweet satisfaction of well-finished duty, 
We find the reward for the work we have 
done. 

Diplomas! Alumni, what floods of emotion 

Arise o'er our feelings? That word what a 
train 
Of deep thoughts from the maze of the past in 
commotion, 
Calls up like the beams call the mist from 
the main! 



ftfeira-m Reception 267 



How oft have we trudged thru the snow in cold 
weather, 

To answer the peals of the bell's frozen call! 
How often we've struggled with lessons together, 

But now our diplomas have paid us for all! 

We thank you, Alumni, for kindly receiving 
The seniors of '90. -Our schooling now done— 

We gladly will join you a year from this evening, 
To welcome the Seniors of Ninety and One! 



Life's tide ebbs out. The flood of years 
Obscures the sinking soul. 

Blest be the heart, devoid of fears, 
Which nears the mystic goal. 



268 P©s:t22$ ©J -S®n2ti-me:T2t' 



Two GonjTicts 



&\ /~ave you heard the din of battle? 
_7 I Heard the scream of shot and shell - 

Sabre clash and musket rattle, 

In their work of death and hell? 

Have you heard the bugle calling 
Bold advance and brave retreat, 

With a thousand heroes falling, 
Some in victory, some defeat? 

War is hell! haste the morning 
Of the day when it will cease! 

War is hell! All haste the dawning 
Of the day of lasting peace! 

Yet, within the soul's deep center, 

Oft when peace reigns o'er the land, 

Graver, fiercer conflicts enter 

Than those waged by warlike band. 



HomefV Joifc: 269 



♦ t— 1 sad and homely youth was standing by 
QJ -*- Amid a scene of mirth and revelry. 
His looks were glum; his rugged form was 

chill; 
For ice had bound the brook and o'er the hill, 
Incased in sleet, the wind blew bitterly. 

In muffs and furs and winter garments all 
Swayed o'er the frozen field, 'twas as a ball 
On some soft summer night in full of moon 
When every heartbeat perfectly in tune: 
But none would skate with Homely Jake at all. 

A crash— a splash — an ending to their dream. 

The banker's daughter fell into the stream. 
All hurried to the shore and everywhere 
Was floating ice— to rescue none would dare. 

Her gallant beau did naught but jump and scream. 

A strong, courageous swimmer braved the mass 
And safely brought to shore the fainting lass. 
A new cashier adorns the National, 
And Mr. Bloss is known and loved by all. 
They say a wedding soon will come to pass. 



270 P©e:T22$ ©€ Se:J2\s\me:nt 



1 ♦ / nique design of playful mind, 
v_J Fair token of a maid's respect, 
By beauty's art and eye designed, 

What thou dost hold who could reject! 

CHORUS. 

yes we come! Our hearts rejoice, 

The hour an inspiration owns, 
Our muses sing— we blend our voice 

In sweet celestial tone. 
Then sing of beauty, sing of love, 

Of beauteous maids and blooming flowers, 
Of summer sky and cooing dove, 

And joy of golden hours. 

So neatly folded, who could dream 

Could aught but beauty be thy aim, 

But in thy bosom glows a beam 

Of light not shed by beauty's flame. 

CHORUS. 



Rare moments sweet— an evening call, 
A gladsome hour of youthful mirth, 

Of laughter, talk and song and all 

Endearments fond of friendship's worth. 

CHORUS. 

Now voices ring upon the air, 

The merry notes sound full and free: 
For youth is here and beauty rare 

Blends with the soul of melody. 

CHORUS. 



The swain who sows, 
When cold wind blows, 

May gather golden grain; 
But who delays, 
Till summer days, 

His sowing reaps in vain. 



272 P©eT22$ of -Serrti-merrt 



Train Will 'YvKixmprL 




hen gossips' talk and traitor's scheming, 
And jealous fiends on evil bent, 
With basest vices unredeeming, 

Brand the names of the innocent; 

When hope's bright sun seems nearly setting, 

The future dim and cloudy lies, 
And you more tired of life are getting, 

And tears of sorrow dim the eyes; 

Cheer up, take courage, do not falter, 

Truth will triumph by and by, 
Time all evil things will alter, 

Vice and wickedness must die. 



Some men are not unlike the owl 
That base, wild-eyed, nocturnal fow 1 , 
That slays his victims in the night, 
And brings his deeds not unto light. 



HeL-weLii 5-Baff Be Frse 273 



HaWem Sfiatf? Be Free 

f I is custom common to mankind, 
J- From imbecile to sage, 
Within the acts of men to find 
The index of the age. 

In reading of Hawaii's war 

This fact has been disclosed, 

Despotic rule must lose its power 
And monarchs be deposed. 

And England's sun shall never shine 
O'er hills of Domnis' reign, 

Nor Briton in his pomp recline 
Upon her sunny plain. 

The queen is driven from the throne, 
The deep-voiced, distant sea 

Is sounding in tremendous tone 
Hawaii shall be free. 



SJT4 P©S.T22$ ©J ^><2:T2tlT22SlT2t' 




nce, when evening shades were closing 
O'er a world in peace reposing, 
Spreading beauteous golden lustre 
All the hills and valleys o'er; 
Weary of my daily duty, 
I sat out to watch the beauty— 
Out to watch the golden beauty 
On the mountain and the moor. 

Long I watched the shifting shadows, 

Tall, dark forms rose in the meadows 

Stretching, as huge giants slumbering, 

On the slopes and on the rills; 



First it darkened in the lowland 
Where the early shadows stroll, and 
Then upon the slopes and hillocks, 
Last of all the light-topped hills. 

Earth was soon one hugh dark cluster, 
But the sky was filled with lustre, 
And it gleamed in golden fringes, 

Where it bordered on the night. 
Here and there thick rows of hedges 
With their nature-ruffled edges 
Formed dark lines along the hilltops 

'Gainst the evanescent light. 

Evening insects now were coming- 
Bugs' and beetles' drowsy drumming— 
Buzzing, buzzing, humming, humming, 

As I never knew before. 
Low, sweet sounds of evening clinging 
On the ether— birds a singing- 
Insects — woodland music ringing 

Bore my mind to dreamland o'er— 
Bore. me to the land of shadows 

And I slept beside my door. 
In the glow of yellow twilight, 

Rested, slumbered by my door. 
Long I sat there breathing, slumbering, 



1B76 Poe.T22$ of ^eT2tlT?2S.T2t' 

Moments, hours, past all numbering, 
And my fancies flitted farther 

Than they ever flew before. 
Dreams of happiness were given, 
And I dreamed I was in Heaven, 
That for which all men have striven 

For six thousand years or more. 
Dreamed I that I was in Heaven, 

Sitting just inside the door, 
Talking to the saintly keeper 

Who had passed me thru the door, 
Passed me to the glorious kingdom, 

Barely passed me nothing more. 

All the place was grand and golden— 
Marble mansions quaint and olden— 
And the people all were singing 

In a most delightful roar. 
Here and there were Sabbath teachers, 
Ladies, babies, parish preachers, 
And some very curious creatures 

That I never saw before, 
All with voices tuned and chiming. 
Even metre, perfect rhyming — 
Voices need no tuning— priming- 
All sing on for evermore. 
Here a pause there came in chiming, 



S-B^foG^S Jci%T22S-Qt 277 



For a tap was at the door, 
*Tis some earth-departed creature 
Seeks admission at the door. 

*' 'Tis a preacher, precious creature!" 
Cried a lady Sabbath-teacher, 
"Know him by his sunny feature 

Open wide the golden door." 
"No." — The keeper paused to thank her- 
*' Wrong. It is a wall-street banker, 
Earth's corroding, cursed canker. 

Close and bolt the golden door. 

He can enter nevermore." 

Shylock drooped his head in thinking, 
Fine champagne be had been drinking, 
And his mind was clear or clearer 

Than it e'er had been before; 
But his schemes all failed entirely. 
This was in the evening early, 
Time for wine and supper nearly, 

And it grieved him very sore, 
Grieved him, for his wine and supper 

He had never missed before— 
Costly wine and sumptuous supper, 

And for gold inside the door. 
Grieved he for these, grieved he sorely, 



278 Posme, ©J ^5S.T2llT22€l"ot 



But he missed them evermore, 
For he entered nevermore. 

Quoth the banker: — "Sir, your pardon; 
I believe you are the warden, 
And it is your oath-bound duty 

To unlock the golden door; 
But just take this hundred million, 
Well say make it half a billion: 
Take it partner, keep ye still, yon 

Is an angel peeping o'er. 
This way we were used to dealing 

When we dealt on earth before, 
Got this money from some farmers, 

Left the last one of them poor; 

Take it, keep still, ope the door." 

Quoth the warden, — "Nevermore." 

"Bless me! why does he refuse it? 
Can't he here in Heaven use it? 
Well, the farmers would abuse it, 

I'll just keep it in my store. 
Keep it when I enter Heaven, 

Thru the shining, golden door— 
When I walk the streets of Heaven, 

On the level golden floor." 

Quoth the warden, "Nevermore!" 



.S-B^f ©©^* Ja%merrf 279 

Here the keeper closed the doorway. 
Sadly turned the banker sore 'way, 
And he longed to live all over 

Life he'd lived on earth before. 
Back and forth he trod the pathway, — 
Strove to drive his grief and wrath 'way, 
Hoping still to gain high Heaven, 

And to tread the golden floor. 

Ah, poor Shylock! "Nevermore." 

Long around the door he lingered. 
Rolls of wealth impatient fingered. 
Mammon ne'er had failed to bring him 

What he asked on earth before. 
At length his hopes were quickly heightened, 
And his countenance was brightened, 
Brushed his broadcloth, stroked his whiskers, 

Pulled his tie and tapped the door. 

Tapped and smiled as once before. 
Smiled to win the saintly keeper, 

As he won on earth before — 
Smiled to win the whole high Heaven, 

Only smiled and nothing more. 

"Saintly keeper, long I've striven, 
For a home at last in Heaven; 
And I ought to be forgiven; 



280 P©erm$ ©j* ^)&T2llT22S.T2t 



For my deeds on earth before. 
Man, enraptured by the beauty 
Of a life, forgets its duty- 
Ne'er e'en knows his highest duty 

To his fellow beings poor. 
Now my heart is sore repenting, 
And my anguish unrelenting. 
May I not now be forgiven? 

I will do so nevermore." 

Quoth the warden. — "Nevermore!" 

"But my heart is sore misgiven, 

And my soul with grief is riven, 

Oh, I pray to be forgiven? 
I beseech thee, I implore!" 

All entreaty unavailing, 

Still the keeper, never failing, 

Sat beside the argent railing, 

'Twixt the banker and the door, 
Singing softly, — ' 'Nevermore. ' ' 

"Alas! too late you pray for pardon, 
You can never walk the garden. 
Had you asked to be forgiven, 

When you lived on earth before; 
Had you spent at honest labor 
Time you schemed against your neighbor, 



Schemed and robbed him of his labor — 

Had you given to the poor; 
We would not now here in waiting 
Hold you pleading and debating, 
But straightway, unhesitating, 

Open wide the golden door. 

Now you enter — Nevermore." 

*'But, as you are tired of waiting, 
And I'm weary of debating, 
I no longer will detain you; 

There's a region somewhat lower 
Where we keep your class of sinners, 
Earth's accursed mammon winners, 
Kings of cliques and cabal spinners. 

Samuel Wood, please guard the door, 

Shy lock enters— Nevermore. 
Those who live by honest labor, 
Never wrong or cheat a neighbor, 
Those who follow conscious duty, 

Are admitted at the door. 

Shy locks enter — nevermore." 

Then the keeper of the gateway 
Marched him onward, downward, straightway, 
To that superheated region that he spoke 
about before, 



S82 Poe/r22$ oj 5 ^eT2tiT22e.T2t' 

Where a horny, spear-tailed devil, 
With a look of dreadful evil, 
Beckoned with a burning shovel 

And unlocked his grating door— 
Grating harshly on its hinges, 

Harshly, hoarsely, "Nevermore." 

Here was heard a troubled squeaking. 
'Twas a little devil speaking, 
As 'twere bitter sorrow eking 

From his bosom's very core: 
Long deep breaths he drew in sighing — 
Eyes were dim— cheeks stained with crying, 
"Father, father, I am dying! 

This new-comer grieves me sore! 
He will corner all the brimstone 

That there is inside the door, 
Mortgage all our whole dominion, 

And monopolize the floor." 

Quoth the Master — "Nevermore!" 

Next there came his youngest daughter 
Bringing pails of bubbling water — 
Bubbling, burning, brimstone water- 
To pour o'er him by the door; 
"Father, save our reputation! 
Consummate his execration 



Here outside! 'tis degradation, 

Worse than ever known before, 
To admit this chief of sinners — 
Speculators, mammon winners — 
Cheating poor men out of dinners! 

Keep him here outside the door. 
I will bring him fire and brimstone, 

And upon him torment pour! 
For the sake of home and Hades, 
Keep him out for evermore." 
Quoth the Master, — ' 'Nevermore. ' ' 

Lo! into the far, most inner 

Cell he hurled the mammon winner. 

Down 'mid all the bulls and bears 

And bankers that had gone before. 

High in Heaven harps were ringing, 
Golden gateway gayly swinging, 
Samuel on the archway singing, 
"Evermore," "Evermore." 

***** 

Then it happened I did waken, 
And my nerves were weak and shaken, 
For the evening air had chilled me 
Till my limbs were stiff and sore. 



S84 P©e.T22$ ©J Ss.nt\ms.n^L 

All upon the dreary morrow 
Sank my soul in deepest sorrow, 
O'er the trouble I did borrow 

From my dream the night before; 
O'er the trouble I did borrow 

From my dream the night before, 
Sank my soul in deepest sorrow. 
Ah, poor Shylock!— "Nevermore." 



It seems inconsistent with all human reason, 

That God in his infinite goodness and love — 
His wisdom, his power and mercy unending, 

Would quietly sit in his mansion above, 
While over the earth dire misfortune is pending, 

Dissension and discord are rife thru the land, 
Injustice prevails, and the innocent suffer, 

And fairest and loveliest, fall at Death's 
hand. 
Could he calmly sit, high on his throne in the sky 

While pain and distress to his children drew 
nigh? 



T£e Hocuse of 5foT2a 28& 



T~Be floa-se oj 1 Storee 




t | is a Sabbath morn in a country town. 
-A bright November sun smiles down 
On the leafless wood and the frost-brown hill. 
There is ice on the brook close by the town, 
And the air is crisp and the morn is chill. 

See yonder house of rugged stone. 
How tall, sepulchral, dreary, lone! 

No trees stand near. The ground is bare, 
Save worthless weeds on a lawn unmown. 

A sorrow stricken soul dwells there. 

For years her life was bright as May, 
With her husband by her side each day, 

To place her hope and trust upon; 
But death has called her love away, 

And now her happiness is gone. 

Oh you who have your loved ones near, 
Fail not to prize that boon so dear, 

Make a haven of your home. 
Do all you can to aid and cheer, 

For death to you and yours will come. 



286 P©eT22$ ©J ,Se.T2tlT22&T;>t 



* \ X / E HAVE come from the east, we have 
V V come from the west, 

Glory glory Philomathian, 
And of all of the societies we have the very best, 
Glory glory Philomathian. 

CHORUS. 

Victory is ours, hurrah boys, hurrah, 
We are going to the city, the city on the Kaw; 
So we rally round our orator, rally once again, 
Glory glory Philomathian. 

"With brave and honest words she has won the 
laureled crown, 
Glory glory Philomathian, 
Stood by the statute law, bloody anarchy put 
down, 
Glory glory Philomathian." 

It was in dramatic art that we won our first 
renown, 
Glory glory Philomathian, 
In contest in debate, then we turned Belieslettres 
down, 
Glory glory Philomathian. 

And we met the Lyceum on a pleasant night in 
June, 
Glory glory Philomathian. 
To the Literati soon we will sing the same old 
tune, 
Glory glory Philomathian. 



5pea^ <W KtoS WorH 287 



JSpesvJ^ 0r2e KireS W©r3 

^b^ peak one kind word to me, dear love 

^ ' One soft kind word when we are 

'lone. 
Pause one sweet moment, precious dove, 
And warm a heart, as cold as stone. 
Speak one kind word. 

Speak one kind word. Those tender eyes 
Give solace sweet when thou art near, 

But in that hallowed voice there lies 
A pathos rich, profound and dear. 
Speak one kind word. 

Speak one kind word, dear, precious love, 
One soft, kind word in tender tone, 

It brings a blessing from above, 

And cheers a life which is so lone. 
Speak one kind word. 



"288 P©ST22<8, ©J jSsmtirae-rat 



* \ X / ild, free on the great western prairies 
V V The buffalo tribes roamed at will. 
O'er the green fertile grass fields of Texas — 
Far west to the land of the mountains 

And north to Dakota's winds chill, 
They basked in the broad sunlit valley, 

Or plunged in mad herds o'er the hill. 

When, in time far remote, Coronado 
Stalked over these lands all in vain 

In his search for Cibola's fair cities, 

When white men first came to Quivera, 
The slow-moving emigrant train 

Passed hundreds of herds of these bison 
That lived, roved and died on the plain. 



ExterTOm8Lti©T2 of tB© Bison 289 



The millions that lived on these prairies 
Would travel of times in close files 

So that emigrants could not cross thru them. 

Nor aught of the pioneers' powder, 
Nor craftiest Indian wiles, 

Could turn from its course the great phalanx 
That stretched o'er the prairies for miles. 

They grazed off the bunch-grass and blue-stem. 

With marvelous instinct, innate, 
Scented water for miles o'er the prairie. 
They bred on the sands of the desert 

And throve in their natural state, 
Till a change swept from ocean to ocean 

And left the poor brutes to their fate. 

Woeful change! When the great tide of progress 

Swept over the hills to the sea, 
Adventurers flooded the prairies 
And drove the red men to the mountains, 

The hunter, bold, fearless and free, 
Came west with his knife and his rifle 

And slaughtered most brutally. 



290 Poemae, of .Se.ratir^e.-rat' 



Years have passed, times have changed. The 
poor bison 

By hundreds of thousands were slain 
For the meat and the hides, horns and tallow. 
One hunter slew nearly five thousand. 

The last beast was swept from the plain, 
And now where the herds roamed by thousands. 

Are farms covered over with grain. 

Some killed for the hides to make robes of, 
Some slew for the meat, some to say 

How many they slaughtered, but no one 

Would credit the number a sportsman 
Reported as killed in a day 

Unless he showed tongues of his victims. 

Waste, waste, cruel woeful destruction, 
The proud herds have dwindled away. 



We are born with, minds a blank. We are not 

given 
At birth the attributes and gifts of heaven. 
Alas, some live and die and never know 
Real duty or true happiness below. 



Tfis Socif 'a T«rst for Sofa.es S91 



Tfie Seat's Tftr**! jor Sof svee 

( 4 JH, is there a home in heaven? 
Vl/ Dear friend, is religion true? 
Has God, oh my friend, truly given 
A solace to me and to you? 

Does he, the kind Father, come near us, 
And whisper his words in our ear? 

Do you know that you feel his dear presence— 
Truly know that your Savior is near? 

I would give all I have of earth's treasure— 

Would throw all forever away, 
Could I know one brief hour the assurance 

That gladdens your being to-day. 

Could I know one brief hour the true pleasure 
That beams in the light of your face, 

I would barter the skeptic's whole future: 
For nothing have I in its place. 



^9S Poe-me, oj 5 ^5eT2tiT22e:T2ir 

Oh my heart is so hollow and lonely! 

Deep trouble lies always so near. 
And now it breaks, breaks in its sorrow, 

With nothing to sooth it and cheer. 

Oh you have bright joy for the future, 
You hope to be happy again. 

I, naught but oblivious darkness 
To follow a world of pain. 

The world is so cold and so cruel! 

The tender heart breaks in the strife, 
And wrong seems to master our purest 

And loftiest motives in life. 

So often in worthiest effort 

To lessen life's measure of grief, 

And grant to some sorrow-worn being 
A moment of calm and relief, 

Tho striving for that which is noblest- - 
Men point with the finger of scorn 

At our efforts, and curse us and hate us 
For bearing the trials we have borne. 



Tf2<s: -Sodf 5 T-BiV^t" jor Sof eves 293 

Forgive them: for man cannot alter 

The incontrovertible plan, 
That wrong, selfish wrong, is so salient 

A part of the nature of man. 

Forgive them; but where is the solace, 
The balm for the grief that is known? 

Men hunger for food for the spirit: 
The heart cannot live alone. 

You've sought and have found it. Your spirit 

Is wrapped in a halo of light. 
I seek but in vain and am shrouded 

In darkness and gloom of the night. 

Oh why do our hearts break with sorrow, 
Oh why do our souls sink in grief, 

If a father who loves us is near us 
With power to give us relief? 

I pray and I plead for that solace 

And feeling down deep in my soul, 

Which alone can bring peace to my bosom, 
But vainly thru all of life's whole. 

Oh would that all men had the knowledge, 
That men can be men without faith 



294 P©GT22$ ©J ^)S.T2tlT22€:T2t' 



In a creed! Oh that there was some solace 
Which all could breathe in with their breath. 

Of this I am sure. Human sorrow 

Finds nothing to soothe it, no balm 

In the bourn of material forces. 

The world gives the spirit no calm. 

We know earthly things have no value. 

The world is not worth one brief hour 
Of sweet peace, sweet assurance of heaven. 

Earth's gifts are a beggarly dower. 

I wish that this throbbing and beating 
That bounds in my breast day by day 

As tho it was breaking and eating 
My heart and my being away— 

I wish it would cease! Oh the trouble, 
The unrest, the anguish! My heart 

Seems to long for something which it has not, 
Some friend with which never to part. 

Is there love, is there peace, are there blessings 
That we may receive from above? 

Oh Father, I pray for thy blessing: 
I plead for thy mercy and love. 

Valley Falls, Nov. 16, 1894. 



Efope-meL-n-tf 295 



♦ I "aut a rude child was she growing 
(o^S As she did, out in the wild, 
In those vast, unbroken regions, 
Could she be a modest child? 

She was roaming in the woodlands, 
She would sport upon the hills, 

She was dancing in the sunlight — 
She was bathing in the rills- 

On the quiet, sleeping waters 

She would launch her light canoe 

And go like a seabird skimming 
O'er the waters dark and blue. 

On one evening when the moonlight 
Fell on waters dark and still, 

And each sound was hushed and quiet, 
Save the cow bells on the hill, 

Lightly boats skimmed o'er the water, 
Not the one this time, but two, 

Close together thru the moonlight 
O'er the waters dark and blue. 

Now they pass the farther inlet, 
Now they reach the outer cove! 

Fare you well to sad repining! 

Welcome life and home and love! 



^296 PoeimA ©J ,S&T2tlT22€.T2t' 

\ X / ithin a flowery valley, 
* There dwelt a little maid, 

As fair as any blossom 

That grew in sun or shade. 

Her cheeks were round and rosy, 
Her lips were crimson red, 

And dark and silken were the curls 
Which clustered round her head. 

Her eyes were as if jewels, 

Were shining in their place— 

'Twas looking at the sunlight 
To look into her face. 

Her form was small and pretty, 
Her dress was always neat. 

Her words were quick and witty, 
And manners most complete. 

Such was the little lassie, 

I now describe to you. 
No wonder William loved her 

You would have loved her too. 



fl Simpfe LoVe 5iTor^ 297 

There was a modest youngster 

Lived not far away, 
With features smooth and hair of brown,. 

Blue-eyed and fair as day. 

Around his rural cottage, 

At childish games he played, 

He knew not grief or sorrow, 
But knew the little maid. 

He new not pangs were soon to pierce 

His young and tender heart, 
Nor once e'er dreamed that all the joy 

Of life must soon depart. 

They learned to love each other, 

In childhood's happy hours, 
And used to stroll together 

Thru summer's lovely bowers- 

And in the hush of evening 

Sat talking side by side, 
In lover's sweet communion. 

What sorrow could betide? 



298 P©e:m$ ©J SeLT2tlT22eT2t 

Too soon the storm-clouds gathered 
And chilled the balmy air, 

Too soon misfortunes hovered 
Around the youthful pair. 

Her chum received a letter 

Saying he was bad, 
Maiden saw the missive 

Made her heart feel sad. 

Parents read the letter, 
Thought it all too true. 

Maiden in deep sorrow— 
Don't know what to do. 

Maiden wrote a letter 

Young man came no more — 
Sadly sat a sighing 

In his mother's door. 

Meeting in the starlight, 

'Neath calm, summer skies — 

Hearts beat close together, 
Tears filled plaintive eyes. 



tf Sirapfe Love 5tor^ 299 



Youth now tells his story 

To his little dear, 
Loving and confiding, 

Maiden does not fear; 

But in his arms reclining 

Lovingly she lies, 
While quiet stars are shining 

From the watchful skies. 

Loving words were spoken, 
Low, in tender tone. 

Promises been broken— 
Evil deeds been done. 

Foul lies have been written, 
Faulty stories told. 

Love so sorely smitten 
Now is as of old. 

Rushing to her parents 

She swears he is her own, 

Reclaims her banished lover 
In most dramatic tone. 



300 P©siT22$ of ®)&.nttm.€Ln{. 

Alas, the dubious father 
Disbelieves the youth, 

Still believes the letter 
Told the fatal truth. 

But the anxious mamma 
Entertains grave doubts 

Father is relentless — 

Maiden pines and pouts. 

It ended in elopement. 

He took his bride by force. 
Now grandpa says he's sorry 

He chose such foolish course. 



LoVe ©j' MTom^n 



♦ I here are some souls in earth-life truly blest. 
-*- Who woos and wins the rapturous love 
of woman 
Has found a boon far richer than the rest, 

Has known the sweetest happiness that's 
human. 



Tfie Pa*t 301 



I 4 J WHY, sweet maid, the past regret, 
V_y And all its memories forget? 

Why should a life like thine, 
Bring thoughts to thee of grief and sadness? 
Or anything but joy and gladness? 

0, if it were as mine— 

In which all memories of the past, 
On their return, forever fast 

Around my heart entwine, 
And bring a heavy burden there, 
A burden more than I can bear, 

And every thought confine 
To them so that I oft am sad 
When otherwise I wouid be glad, 

And beams of happiness shine. 



302 P©eiT22S of ^5eT2tlT22®:T2t 



Upon my lot where sorrow's chain 
Is wound around my desperate brain, 

And each thought in its turn 
Contributes free its cruel might 
To vex my soul by day and night 

And make my bosom burn 

With keen regret that I had seen 
The past, or that my life had been, 

Since filled with sorrow so; 
And almost wish there was a world 
Of fire in which I might be hurled 

To end my grief and woe, — 

then, fair maid, I might agree 

With you that each past memory 

Should vanish from your thought, — 

That no remembrance of the past 

Within your mind should longer last- 
Each vestige be forgot; 

But as, dear maid, this is not so, 
And you've a stranger been to woe, 

And naught but pleasure known, 
Think often of the pleasant past, 
Let each fond memory ever last, 

And claim the happiness that's your own. 



^L La.T22€:T2t' S€ e02cl®Lr 303 



* \ X /ith what malignant, cruel grasp 
V V Did Madam Grundy's icy hand 

Break way the tie which once did elasp 
Our sacred friendship's faultless band! 

I long have thought that you were true — 
That, should I need a trusty friend, 

My confidence reposed in you 
Were kept and guarded to the end. 

Alas too plain; Your word and mein 
Reveal a change within your breast. 

You shun me, 'tis indeed too plain— 
And why? But hold! I know the rest. 

Ah can it be my trusted friend 

Would heed the slanderer's poison tongue, 
And cause communion there to end 

How e'er my heart in anguish wrung? 



.304 P©e.T22$ ©J -SeT2iTlT2ae:T2t' 

Is friendship such a fragile thing 
It can be broken by a blow? 

And faith so faithless as to fling 
Its standard for a single foe? 

Ah would you press the poison fangs 
Of slander deeper in my breast? 

E'en tho you care not for my pangs— 
Nor put the slanderer to the test? 

Oh have you disappointment known ? 

And have you felt the pangs of grief? 
Have all things dearest from you flown— 

And vainly have you sought relief? 

In vain I seek, but cease this strain. 

The time shall come when you will know 
That you have caused me useless pain. 

I hope and pray it may be so. 

Oh source of life, of power, of worth— 
Give thou me strength that I may be, 

While crossing this short span of earth, 
More kind to man than man to me! 



fl Rci^tiG TrageH^ 30^ 



^T Ra-stie Trsujeel// 






♦ J he sun was set, the clouded sky, 
-*- Unlit by Luna's light, 
Scarce opened for the sparkling eye 

Of Stella, clear and bright: 
And darkness bordering on the glade 
His dim dimensions there had laid. 

Old Saturn in his many rings, 
With soft, effulgent ray, 

Shone gently down on earthly things 
To view the closing day. 

Bright Venus' smile with loving grace 

Imbued with hope a youthful face. 

The leaves were green upon the trees, 

And fluttered in the air. 
The branches in the evening breeze 

Tossed gayly here and there. 
The moving silhouettes they made 
Increased the darkness in the glade. 



306 Pos/me, ©J -Ss.T2b'r?2S:T2t' 



The flowerets waft their sweet perfume 

O'er grassy vale and hill, 
While gently poising every bloom 

Upon the peaceful gale: 
And all around the damasked green 
Reflected beauteous floral sheen. 

The songsters ceased their tuneful lay, 
And Nature's voice was still, 

Save insects in the wood away. 
The frogs within the rill, 

And she whom wishes may fulfill, 

The shrill-voiced, lonely whippoorwill. 

A youth returning from his toil, 
With weary step, and slow, 

His face begrimed with sweat and soil, 
With looks down-cast and low, 

Was musing over times gone by, 

And gazing with a dreamy eye. 

Hemembrance filled his thoughtful mind 
Of scenes which long had flown, 

Of deeds ill-done, of words unkind, 
Of sorrow that had grown 

Until it seemed to rend his soul 

As earth-quake shock or thunder roll. 






To ease the pain remembrance brought, 

To free him from the load 
Of grief by disappointment wrought, 

He mounted and he rode 
O'er flow'ry hill and blooming dale 

Across into a western pale. 

His steed, a dark and glossy gray, 

Was wild as a gazelle. 
Full well he knew the beaten way— 

Ah knew it but too well! 
So oft, so oft the path he trod, 
He knew to shun each stone and clod. 

How brisk and gay, what fearless bound, 
How buoyant was his tread! 

He spurned with flying feet the ground — 
As meteor flash he sped, 

Until he reached an oaken grove, 
The habitation of his love. 

The youth had gone to see his fair. 

Arriving at the door he 
Found out another chap was there, 

Which spoils a splendid story. 
His rival took her to the altar, 
And our poor youth took to the halter. 



.308 Posrme, oj 5 -Ssrot'ir^e.-rat' 



Lo^5 ©j 3 a Dear Fner23 

♦ I | ark-eyed Mary, friend of my youth- 
(^^L^/ ful years, 

Companion of some fondly cherished hours, 
My heart o'erflows with grief, as thru my tears, 
I see how droop and fade life's fairest flowers. 

The tender buds in life's bright morn that grew, 
And, smiling, opened in the noon of life, 

All lose the freshness of the morning dew, 
And wither in this old world's heated strife. 

The bloom of youth has withered on life's stem, 
Joy's scented breath no more perfumes the air, 

Disheartened Nature breathes a requiem 
O'er all the graves of all the good and fair. 

The bond is broken now; The silvery thread 
Of friendship by your hand is torn apart. 

A chain of sorrow fills its place instead, 
Which burdens all the years a lonely heart. 



Loss, of a. Dear p-riei-rael 309 

Oh, could the silver chord have been applied 
To bind a heart love wounded long ago, 

Could e'en the frailest fibre have been tied, 
I had not known such depths of bitter woe. 

I cherish friends, for friendship is so near 
The consummation of one's being, love, 

Which having flown, to lives thus lone and drear, 
No solace than a friend can dearer prove.l 

Ah love is flown! Forever lost that boon! 

And with it all the joy life might have known! 
Oh, would that death could come and free me soon 

My life is hopeless, desperate and lone! 

But, loosened by your hand the dearest tie, 
That binds one to this life since love has fled; 

Ah, better, far 'twould be could one but die, 
And moulder in the darkness with the dead. 

Yes, better in the cold, still grave to lie, 
Together with the worm, and with the clod, 

Than famish in a world for sympathy, 
Forsaken by humanity and God. 



310 Pos:t225 oj 5 SeLiiftm&nk 



Oh, happy girl! In those bright dreams of joy, 
Those fruitful years so soon to be thy portion, 

Think not of me, a poor, unhappy boy, 

Whose hopes, life's hopes so early proved 
abortion! 

Long, long the years since we in pleasure met! 

Well I recall the bright and happy day, 
'Tis filled with such glad memories even yet 

It lends my life a solitary ray. 

And, sometimes still I think of what has been— 
Of pleasant walks and drives and schoolday 
scenes, 

And pray that joy may crown my life again; 
But boundless depth of sorrow intervenes. 

Once youth and love, mid childhood's scenes of 
pleasure, 
Filled my young heart with life and light 
and hope. 
Now sorrow's dregs I drink in fullest measure, 
While thru life's gloomy ways in grief I 
grope. 

Oh, can there be no promise for the morrow? 

Must human effort ever be in vain? 
Must gloomy souls dwell in their grief and sor- 
row 
Forever? Know of naught but grief and 
pain? 

Almighty God, If Thou dost rule in heaven, 

If Thou dost guide us with Thy loving care, 

Take way this troubled life so vainly given 
Or drive away this dark, and deep despair! 



Bct3 BLiaa Bets/ 311 



♦ t-j mong the many mashes made 
(0/ -L In all the country round, 
The saddest of them all, I'm sure 
Within our midst is found. 

Twas in the spring when all the youngsters, 

In for joy and recreation, 
Got the "Hack" to take the trip 

To see the Indian reservation — 

The day that "Wests" and "Westwards" all 
Bunched up together and had such fun, 

And only got as far as Cedar — 
That's the day it was begun. 

Twas Betz and Betsy. Close together 
Up and down the roads they walked, 

And of the present times and weather, 
Future hopes and all they talked* 



312 Pos."r22$ of 5 S&.ntim&.nt 

As one they strolled beneath the trees, 
Ascended in the giddy swing, 

Or sat within the hack at ease 

And listened to the song birds sing. 

They gathered flowers of lovely hue, 

And decked themselves in colors gay, 

And, joyous 'neath the cloudless blue, 
Thus spent the happy hours of May. 

Before the sun dropped o'er the ridge, 
And it was time to homeward go, 

They all met on the Cedar bridge 

And tripped the "light fantastic toe.' 

Upon that evening when the dreaded 
Time had come when they must part, 

The while they waited, hesitated, 
Cupid shot his cruel dart. 

On bright summer Sunday evenings, 

As the sun was sinking low, 
On "Old Kate" he'd throw his saddle, 
And to Betsy's home would go. 



Bef 3 aT2^ Bets/ 313 

When the old clock in the kitchen 

Told the hour by striking ten, 
Would mount old Kate reluctantly 

And slowly ride back home again. 

As their friendship somewhat stronger, 

More enduring, warmer, grew; 
Sometimes he would linger longer, — 

Only just an hour or two. 

Affairs grew worse he staid until 

The tired old clock was all unwound 

Till day break glimmered on the hill 

This stayer, Betz would hang around. 

One night there came an awful noise— 
A kick — Betz landed out the door. 

Her father threw a boot of Roy's— 
Fido barked, and all was o'er. 

And now those pleasant times are o'er. 

Her smile no more lights up his face. 
He sees his Betsy love no more, 

And Brit is calling in his place. 



314 P©<S1T22$ ©J ^S:T2tlT22€.T2t' 



I ♦ I H no, I did not want to leave you! 
^-^ My aching heart pleaded to stay. 
Those charms bind me close to your being, 
So close, oh I can't break away! 

My soul cries out for you and to you, 
Oh Darling, my life is so lone! 

Come back, oh my Precious, forgive me. 
Without you life's pleasures have flown. 

The autumn winds mourn thru the branches* 
The summer green withers away. 

The autumn winds roar thru the treetops. 
My lone heart is breaking to-day. 

The sun has sunk low neath the meadow. 

Dark stormclouds are frowning above. 
I wander alone in the shadow, 

And weep for the one that I love. 

I wander alone in the darkness, 

And struggle to banish my grief: 
But my heart is with you, Dear, without you,. 

My poor life can know no relief. 
Oh my heart cannot leave you and lose you ? 

It breaks like the tenderest vine. 
Come back! Oh forgive! Do not leave me! 

Come back, Oh my Darling, Be Mine! 



De.jspeuV 31s) 



^Y— I ow can I sing! How can a mind 
_y \ Despairing, hold a cheerful thought, 

Or soul grief -riven hope to find 

A consolation come from naught! 

Would music cheer me, as I sound 

The merry violin or flute? 
Or drive away the grief profound, 

That in my bosom holds its root? 

How can I sing, when desperate mood, 
And darkest influence o'er me bear! 

Oh, life of peace, I wish I could, 
A moment of thy blessing shara! 

My brain is wild, my sorrow deep, 

Too deep for words, too deep to know. 

I am too desperate to weep, 

My heart— my soul do over flow. 

Could I but know one ray of light, 

Oh, see one glimmer of a star, 
I'd struggle on thru darkest night— 

Wherever lead, however far. 

Could I but know one dream of peace, 

God, Father, I would be 
At rest! then would sorrow cease, 

And life move on more tranquilly. 



31(£> Poen^ae, ©J -Ssmti-rc^sTQl 



fl&e 



ea 



* F—j dieu! Adieu! deceitful maid, 
Qj -*- No tear bedims my eye 
As now, tho years I have delayed, 
I say at last good bye. 

Had I a year ago have penned 
A brief and cold farewell 

My sorrow would have known no end- 
My anguish none could tell. 

I loved you dearly. Every charm 
Enraptured my young heart. 

Ah! Knew you not the grievous harm 
Coquetry would impart? 

My sorrow bore my spirit down. 

You took from me my pride. 
When love and pride are lost and gone 

What is there left beside! 



ASheo. 317 



Not only did I love you true 
And think of you each day, 

Proud girl, I fairly worshiped you 
And grieved my youth away. 

Beside your window have I crept 
And cried with bitter tear, 

While you in beauty calmly slept 
Nor dreamed that I was near. 

Adoring you,— revering you, 
With purest motives rife, 

So long, so long did I pursue 
The hopeless, bitter strife. 

To you, bright angel, in my dreams, 
My mind did ever roam, 

To dwell on fruitless fancy themes 
Of love and rest and home. 

Within my mind by night or day 
Your form and face remained, 

You, careless as a child at play 
My faithfulness disdained. 



318 Poerme, ©J SeLn^m^ni 



But now it's o'er. My youth is flown, 

My happiness is past, 
My love, my hope forever gone 

I live alone at last. 

Yet sadly do I gaze above 

Those rugged hills which sever 

My heart from her I fondly love 
Forever and forever. 

Oh now farewell! forgive! forget! 

Young hearts I pray take warning, 
The night is dark and cold. Oh yet 

I pray and hope for morning. 



fts^ Me Not 



Ask me not that doleful query 
Why apart from joy I tarry, 

Why life's path, so dull and dreary, 
Lone I plod and do not marry. 



Yoatfi Sa^3 Age 

Youth so full of hope and promise. 
Age so studious of the past. 



Lose, ©J F-rie-racU-Bip 319 1 



♦V^ou, too, are turned! No friend so 
-*- true 

But falsehood breaks the links that bind. 
There's none to trust, not even you, 
Oh world you are unkind, unkind! 

Since love has flown— since torn apart, 
The links lie, broken, rusting, dying— 

In hope to heal a wounded heart, 

To stay the pangs, to dull the dart, 
To end the soul's sad sighing— 

To drive despair from out my breast, 

To stop my life's blood's eking 
To give my struggling spirit rest 

New friends I have been seeking. 

,'Tis not that love may come anew 

The olden ties to sever, 
Those ties all time cannot undue, 
They round my heart, and thru and thru, 

How firm and fast forever. 



320 Pos:T22$ ©J ^>ST2tlT22eiT2t 

Not that I hope to love again 

That friendship do I cherish; 
But that despair from out my brain 
It drives and tends to ease the pain 
From which I almost perish. 

For this I sought your sunny smile. 

Oft when the day was dreary, 
Old melancholy to beguile, 
I loved with you the time to while 

Away. You were so cheery. 

I loved to sit on Sunday eve 

And talk our school days over, 

With you one could not well believe 
Himself a love-lorn lover. 

But now alas it all is o'er! 

Again I lose my treasure. 
Farewell, farewell, forever more. 
May heaven's blessings be in store 

And earth-life full of pleasure. 



W£© i* Mv; FrismH TomgGt 321 



3 am weary, so weary, of care and of strife ! 
My strength seems exhausted and gone. 
All day where wild tumult and trouble were rife 

I have stood in the conflict alone. 
Stood and fought,— fought and won, for the 

truth and the right. 
Ah, who is my friend tonight! 

All others stood listless, permitting the wrong, 
I rushed in the midst of the fray. 

They are safe who remain with the feelingless 
throng. 
My life is in danger they say, 

Because I have put evil doers to flight. 

Ah, v/ho is my friend tonight! 

I am weary, yes, weary, I long for repose, 

Long for rest, home, love, solace and peace. 

Life's scenes are so dreary, I long for its close 
And pray that all conflict may cease. 

Tired, lonesome, and friendless, in such hapless 
plight— 

Ah, who is my friend tonight! 



3^2 P©S.T22«, ©f ^)eT2b*T2as:T2t 



Dear love, lost so long in the dim, distant years, 
Thou for whom my youth's vigor was spent — 
Thou for whom these sad eyes have shed oceans 
of tears— 
can you not now relent? 
Take the good with the bad, count the wrong 
with the right- 
Are you not my friend tonight? 

Dear Father, whose precepts have taught me to 
stand 
Ever firm for the weak and oppressed; 
Dear mother, whose labor with heart and with 
hand 
Placed that principle deep in my breast; 
Thru adversity's vale— or good fortunes proud 
height, 
In the gloom of the eve, or the morn's gleam- 
ing light, 
Be it bliss, be it bane, be it bloom, be it blight— 
You, I know, are my true friends tonight! 



T~Be: .S-u/eetei.S't T'BoagfBt' 

To me there is no sadder, sweeter thought 
Than the thought of loving lives, close linked to- 
gether, 
Toiling, heart and hand, for those they love. 
The gravest, most portentious wrong today, 
Is that the ill-got power of enmassed wealth _ 
So burdens down these hopeless, struggling lives 
As to make that toil in vain. 



Rs-morss 323 



Reroonse Over Deaffi ©J 
LoVe3 One 

♦ j ou wonder, Reta, why no more I come 
To see you and spend evenings at 

your home. 
You wonder why my footsteps never stray 
'Mid scenes which cheer the heart and make it gay, 
And why, with dreamy look and somber mood 
I dwell in dismal gloom and solitude. 

Ah, Reta, heavy burdens weight my soul, 
Which long have sought to crush life's fractured 

bowl. 
My sad eyes show— my downcast looks portray 
The deep dejection of my life today: 
And so in depths of solitude I stroll 
To doff the gloomy burden from my soul. 

I cannot mingle with the merry throng, 
And sing with them life's happy, carefree song. 
I'm doomed to roam disconsolate and lone 
Until this weary spirit, life, has flown. 

Grief's cruel blight upon the mortal tree 
Kills all, it seems, save immortality. 



3^4 Po®LT22$ ©J S®lT2tlT22eT2t' 



I've spent some happy hours of golden days, 
With you in your sweet, playful, girlish ways, 
Have laughed and smiled and met your beaming 

glance 
In jolly picnic crew or mazy dance, 
Have known you in your spring-time, girlish 

bloom— 
A budding flower that waft its first perfume. 

Dear, when I laugh and talk with you so free 
It brings my heart's sad memories to me, 
Of times when we together laughed and smiled, 
And all with joy the happy hours beguiled: 
But now, alas, those halcyon days are o'er! 
Her charming smile will never greet me more. 
The light and love which beamed from those 

dear eyes 
Lit up my soul as sun the summer skies. 
Her matchless, lovelit features, day or night, 
Drew me as silly moth to lurid light — 
Thou art not wholly mortal, Love divine, 
Alas, no more I hope to call her mine; 
But thru the world, with health and spirit spoiled, 
My proudest and my noblest efforts foiled, 
I now must grope my way till intervenes 
That final change which closes earthly scenes. 



Rs.T2201 A SS. 3/OQ> 



Oh cruel death! to steal my love away! 

My hope, my strength seem gone! "Tis night! 

No ray 
From out the dark illumes the future sky 
My life is cold and drear, dear Love, good bye! 

My heart sinks at the thought of those lost hours 
Of happiness 'mid life's sweet buds and flowers. 
Remorse oft thrills me as I feel the loss 
And know of happiness I have but dross. 

My hope, proud hope, so long my only stay 
On wild, distracted wings has flown away, 
And courage, bold companion, fearless guide, 
Has faltered, sickened, mourned for me and died. 

All, all is gone! I'm left no earthly joy. 
The dream of happiness is grief's decoy. 
And thought of pleasures gone long in the past 
Imbue the prayer that such might longer last. 

Oh no, I cannot meet your pleasant smile. 
To do so it would be but to beguile. 
When from the soul no joyous feeling flows, 
And in the eyes no sparkling lustre glows, 
And in the breast no warm emotions heave, 
Why should a mocking smile try to deceive? 



3^6 Poe.r?2$ oj 5 S^niim^n^ 

I cannot grasp your soft and snowy hand, 
With unaffected friendship's faultless band, 
Altho 'tis shaped by nature's perfect art. 
Another's clasp could thrill my leaping heart. 
Her hand could let it beat, or stop my breath; 
Could give the bliss of heaven, or chill of death: 
And should that hand have made my blood to pour, 
My spirit still would love it as before. 
She thus controlled my happiness or grief 
My life or death— affliction or relief. 

I cannot join with you in merry mood, 

Oh world of Jewells, Reta, if I could! 

I dare not call on any one, I would 

Communicate my melancholy mood, 

And change sweet smiles to looks downcast and 
sad; 

Distressing those whom otherwise were glad; 

Disturbing thoughts to brighter themes confined, 

Dispersing all on melancholy wind. 

Upon your happy life I cast a blight 

By telling you my grief. Illfated night 



That robbed of its contentment all your own 
Dear life that a moment's ease might be bestown 
Upon my own. Ah freely you forgive! 
You knew I needed sympathy to live. 
'Twas wrong, most wrong to mar your happy lot 
By sad and doleful stories best forgot. 
Were I to cause you feelings of distress 
'Twould mar a life much rather I would bless. 
All claims to social joys I must disown, 
Till from my life the clouds of sorrow blown, 
Leave skies above me hopeful, bright and clear, 
Or till cold death shall close the scene so drear. 
Yes, I must hold my tongue, nor talk about 
My grief, just eke my spirit slowly out. 
Aye, bind this cruel vulture to my soul 
To eat away thru all life's dreary whole! 



32B P©sra$ ©J 5ei2llT22ST2t 



De^spondereev/ 



Jay after the dance— Delia 
<o~" ^ My thoughts fly this morning to you ! 
Musing o'er scenes of last evening, 
Brings back my old sorrow anew; 

And writing to you in your gladness 

Seems somehow to ease the dull pain: 

So I open my soul, in its sadness, 
To pour forth a sorrowful strain! 

I dream, as I gaze o'er the landscape, 
Of fountains of joy that are dead — 

Of bubbles of bliss that are broken — 
Of years and of hopes that are fled! 

And my heart still goes on with its aching, 

My eyes still cling to that glare 
Which bespeaks of that inward sad feeling, 

That drives helpless souls to despair. 



DesporaclsrrcG;/ 329 



Last night, mid the sweet, smiling faces, 
And eyes with pure merriment bright, 

Sometimes for awhile, I could muster a smile, 
But 'twas lost in my soul's bitter blight. 

I danced: but twas not in that feeling — 
That feeling I danced in of yore. 

Ah, Delia— those feelings have left me, 
That now I may know them no more. 

Your smile was so pleasant! it thrilled me 
And told me that you were my friend; 

But constantly memories filled me 

With sorrows that never know end. 

Ah, you are so happy in beauty, 

You laugh in your sweet girlish glee, 

While tears of the bitterest sorrow 
Are constantly streaming from me. 

Oh, dear, have I done aught to merit 
The sorrow that falls to my lot? 

Have I sinned against God, or my being? 
Believe me true friend I have not! 



330 P©©-r22$ of Se:i2^\r22s.ni 

I have ne'er known the vice of the city. 

I drink not, I smoke not nor chew. 
I have ne'er waged a dime or committed a crime, 

I swear not nor speak that untrue. 

I have loved! ah that brought on my sorrow 

God, that I never had been! 

Since innocent pleasure I deemed such a treasure 
Has caused so much sorrow and sin! 

Oh, love not dear friend, for our loving, 

Produces such sorrow and woe. 
Far better live single forever, 

Than mar human happiness so! 

My sorrow scarce ceases a moment 

1 do not know what I shall do! 
It added a straw to my burden 

Last eve to be doubted by you. 

Later 

But nothing can add to my sorrow. 

There's nothing can make me more true. 
Dear friend, when you once have a lover, 

For his sake — for God's sake be true! 



LoVe:forT2 331 



LoVetorn 

I ♦ 1 Delia, my heart bursts with anguish! 
^-^ I do naught but grieve over you. 
Long years have now passed since we parted, 
But time makes my love no less true. 

You still are my darling, my idol,— 
The dear little girl that I love, — 

0, I love you yet Delia, as dearly, 
As human love ever has proved! 

I try to forget you, I struggle, 

To drive those sad feelings away; 

But they sink deep within my torn bosom, 
And dwell there by night and by day. 

It seems that I ought to forget you, 

Since driven forever apart; 
But you somehow found place in my being, 

Your charm links your heart to my heart. 



And as long as the stars shine above you, 
As long as the lovelorn have woes, 

I will yearn for you dream of you— love you, 
Till death makes me turn up my toes. 



332 Poe.T22Q, of .Ssrrati-msmt 



♦ I ne'er can love another 
^2/ As long as life may stand. 
No maid the wide world over 

Shall hold this heart or hand. 

As long as life lasts still shall gleam 
My love's undying ember. 

I loved her in life's spring time, 
I love her in December. 

Tho I should wed another, 

No love could bless the tie. 

My heart pleads on forever, 
The grave makes no reply. 



That which steals the tender love and mercy 
from the heart of man, 
That which fills the mother's bosom full of 
bitterness and woe, 
That which makes of noble family a base, 
ignoble clan, 
That, of all existing evils, is the greatest 
that I know. 



Re-trospe-otiVs. 333 



Retrospective 

♦ I long for those lost, happy hours 
0/ Of life's bright spring so fair; 
Its smiling sunshine, budding flowers 
And notes of music rare. 

In longing sometimes now it seems 

I see them as before, 
In vain chimeras, hopes and dreams, 

I see them all once more. 

When life was all a summer day, 
And free as blew the wind, 

I had no cares to cross my play, 
No troubles vexed my mind. 

Within the quiet of my home, 
By kindest parents blest, 

To fold my arms when night had come 
And lie in peaceful rest. 



334 Po«2:t22$ ©J ,Sen2tiT22e.T2t' 



To <M^/ Lsvrceltorel 

Upon departing from a hotel. 

* I went to bed but did not stay. 
^ I left post haste, and did not pay. 
You wonder what came over me? 
Look in the lamp and you will see. 

A hundred bed bugs bold, and bad, 
As fierce as soldiers of Bag Dad, 
Appalled my heart with consternation. 
Behold their fate! Incineration. 

Ten thousand strong, armed cap-a-pie, 
Then o'er me thronged with blood in eye, 
Assaulting me with mal intent; 
So up and out of that I went. 

I'm fond of scc'.ability, 
And yet in choosing company, 
To share my hearth, I must insist 
On leaving bed bugs off my list. 



Lov&'s, RsBa^e 335 



LoVe's, Relate 

♦ I is not enough that poverty 
-"- Should place me 'neath your station, 
So you can look below and see 
My humbly clad condition. 

You were not sated with the thought 

That you are far superior; 
But cruelly and basely sought 

To make me feel inferior. 

And told to all the city through 

The unkind trick you played me. 

I thought you friend, I took as true 
The words which so betray me. 

You smile and sneer and laugh with scorn 

And cunningly decry me, 
And closely scan my clothes so worn 

Whenever you pass by me. 



336 Posrme, ©J ibsnati-me^t' 



Dofe 



on 5 



♦ J hru meadow land and sylvan glade 
-*- To tread the wide world over. 
No God to guide a soul betrayed 
No hope, no light no lover. 

All crossed in love, far, far from home, 

No friendship ties to sever, 
I'm doomed in hopeless grief to roam 

Forever and forever. 



Far, far have I wandered from you my dear, 
Far, far from the one that I love; 

But I love you as truly as when your were near 
No distance can ever Remove. 



Oh write to me, Dear,, write to me! 

Divert my mind from grief and gloom. 
Relieve me of this misery 

That drags me to the tomb. 




Hop Tea. 337 



Hop Teev 



By Request. 



f V^NE Charley Humbert sold "Hop Tea," 

V_y Out at the county fair. 

Sir Rogers said, "That shall not be." 

And frothed and tore his hair. 
"Humph! shall we turn the people loose 

To drink just what they please? 
No, put them in the calaboose, 

Or hang them by degrees." 

"How do they know what they should drink 

Unless they ask of me? 
The peoples' rights? Well I dont think! 

They shall not have hop tea." 
Then did he turn his terriers loose, 

This old insidious saint, 
And Humbert humped to the calaboose 

When Moses made complaint. 

Then Uncle Sam's strong arm was brought 

By telephone to "pal," 
And nation, state and city sought 

To "crush the criminal." 
He had not taken life nor limb, 

Committed robbery, 
Nor any crime; but, woe to him, 

For selling cold hop tea. 



338 P©&-m$ ©J <S<S72tlT22©12t 

He had not tarried late at cards, 

Nor the ruby goblet quaffed— 
Swiped county funds nor lumber yards, 

Nor worked Almaden's graft; 
He had not hounded down his foes 

And sacrificed his friends, 
Inflicting many cruel woes 

To gain his selfish ends; 

Nor any crime in any clime 

On earth committed he; 
Yet all is woe, his cake is dough: 

He sold some cold hop tea! 
But Humbert whipped him on the street, 

And in the courts went free, 
And Uncle Sam dont care a jam 

For selling cold hop tea. 

A learned note then Moses wrote 

And published far and wide, 
Condemning citizens by note. 

Now Emmert wants his hide. 
And Rogers too, is feeling blue, 

And did apologize, 
For fear that Sam would cuss and damn 

And maybe black his eyes. 



Hop T S8 . 339 



A maxim true, altho not new:— 
It may be well to mind it, 

Who seeks for strife in western life- 
Is very sure to find it. 

If there were to the devil due 
A thousand Meddling Matties, 

"The Judge and Hank would pay the bill 
With one thrown in free gratis. 




QJ 



By Gertrude Crumb Harman. 

ot arrayed 'neath flaunting banners, 
Not proclaimed by bugle note, 
Nor a peal of deafening thunder 

From the cannon's brazen throat; 

Not with blare of martial music, 

Nor with roll of throbbing drums, 

From the blood-stained fields of carnage, 
The world's true conqueror comes; 

But his face is mild and radiant, 
With a light as from above: 

Yet, before him bows the universe 
This conqueror's name is Love. 



340 PoeT22«, ©J ,S<=mtiT22e.-r2t' 



Yea Hot 3 Mj/ Heart ForeVer 

♦ j ou hold my heart forever, Dear, 
-^ Tho years and years go by; 

I have not strength to sever, Dear, 
Our young love's tender tie. 

I know that you are lost to me, 

Forever from my life; 
I know my soul must ever be 

Involved in ceaseless strife; 

I know that thoughts of you can bring 

Me naught but grief and pain: 
Yet to some phantom hope I cling. 

I cannot break the chain. 

Too well do I remember, Dear, 

The sweet, yet bitter past. 
My life is now December, Dear, 

It's summer flew so fast. 

Well I recall the happy June 

Love's blossoms strewed the way. 

Our young hearts then, in sweet attune, 
Beat merrily thru the day. 

Those bonds that grew so firm and strong, 
Thru years of sweet communion, 

Hold firm and fast — Oh long, so long, 
Should be their happy union! 



Yoa flof 3 M^ fWrt ForaVcr 341 



Our barks must now drift wide apart 
On life's cold, dreary ocean; 

But yours will ever hold my heart. 
Mine is but void commotion. 

Yours, Dear, will ever hold my heart, 
While in my soul's deep center, 

Since wrecked by disappointment's art, 
Can naught but anguish enter. 

Oh, summer bloom is past and gone, 
And winter winds are here, 

The flying snow comes swiftly down 
To enshroud the dying year; 

But winter blast, or summer bloom, 

'Tis all the same to me. 
My heart is buried in the tomb. 

Welcome eternity! 

Farewell, oh love, forgive forget, 
My heart-strings break to sever. 

Dear heart, may you be happy yet, 
Farewell, farewell forever! 



fl£? Is O'er 



* p-j ll is o'er! I have burned up your letters. 
QJ -*- The last leaf is crisped in the flame. 
All is o'er! I have broken the fetters, 
My freedom, my life to reclaim. 



342 Poe.r?2$ of SG.niimts.nk 



I have given you back ev'ry token 
You gave me in days that are past, 

And in spite of all vows, kept or broken, 
We part now forever at last. 

All is o'er! As I look at the ashes, 

That crumble and fade from my sight, 
My heart pains as if pierced in deep gashes 

Inflicted with crudest might; 
And I think how my future is blighted— 

How my love and my life seem in vain— 
How you changed from the love that you plighted , 

And all bring but sorrow and pain. 

All is o'er! far too far for retracing, 

Our pathways divided have grown, 
And each heart, changed beyond all replacing,. 

Must bear life's deep sorrows alone. 
Be it so! but yield not unto sorrow. 

The heart sore bereft of earth-love 
May perchance on some happy tomorrow 

Find comfort and solace above. 

Oh the tender and sweet recollection, 

That haunts my dull memory still, 
Hurls me back into deepest dejection— 

Has ever, and— yes— ever will! 
Be it so! Were my life to live over, 

With all of its pleasure and pain, 
I would seek her and woo her and love her 

Tho I knew I would lose her again. 



T-6e Bf ossora ai2S Briar 343 



Tfie Bfossom arcel Briar 



A Song 



♦ CI blossom and briar grew side by side, 
q) J- In the garden of good one day. 
The blossom was wooed and the briar defied, 
While the years they were passing away. 
Said the thorn to the rose— ' 1 have never a smile. 

You are petted and wooed all the day." 
Said the rose "You've a mien of defiance the 
while, 
And I smile like the beams of the May. 

There are blossoms and briars on the path of life. 

Let us choose as we trudge the way. 
Be a blossom of ease, not a briar of strife, 

While the years they are passing away. 
To the years and the tears that are gone in the 
past, 

Farewell, oh forever and aye! 
Wear the rose of contentment that ever may last, 

While the years they are passing away. 



Opt 



irm&rn 



The things which we in visions see, 
Are heralds of the things to be; 

For what we dream, we do. 
Desires which in our beings burn, 
The hopes with which our bosoms yearn, 

Are destined to come true 



344 POS1T22Q) ©J Ss.T2tlT22®LT2t 



By Gertrude Crumb Harman 



iTvTsi] 



^ jh Silence, mystic goddess of the night, 
^^With tranquil brow, adorned in beauty 

bright, 
What sweet and healing balm is in thy face, 
To give tired hearts a new strength-giving grace! 

Thy presence gives us solace and relief, 
Becalms our wildest joy— assuages grief. 
So calm and beautiful, composed, serene, 
It makes a heaven out of any scene. 

Away from men, and all discordant sounds, 
Alone with thee, what solemn peace abounds! 
Above, the mighty stars revolve in space, 
And earthly scenes draw beauty from thy face. 

Majestic, mystic goddess from above 
Imbue our hearts with a diviner love, 
Inspire our minds to greater wisdom so 
We know our highest duty here below. 



Mam f fa Bs^ 

By Gertrude Crumb Harman. 

♦ I he bells were ringing, peal on peal, 
-*- And the flags were flying free; 
And the hot-lipped guns boomed loud and deep 
For the victory over the sea: 
Over the sea in Manilla bay, 
Where the Spanish fleet went down. 

The Sabbath air was hot and thick, 
And pierced by shot and shell; 
And the cannon's roar, and the dying shriek 
Were the counter part of hell: 
Over the sea in Manilla bay, 
Where the Spanish fleet went down. 

We knelt in prayer that Sabbath morn, 
And we prayed to the God of love: 
* 'Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done 
On earth, as it is above," 

While over the sea, in Manilla bay, 
The Spanish fleet went down. 



346 Poe.T22$ ©J .Ssmt'i-oaerQ't' 



By Gertrude Crumb Harman. 

* h-j fter the glow of the noonday sun, 
QJ -*- After the day its course has run, 
After the glare and bustle and heat, 
There comes a peace that is calm and sweet. 
The fiery sun sinks low to rest, 
,Mid flaming clouds, far in the west: 
Then softly, gently, stealing slow, 
Comes on the golden after glow. 

The soft and mellow beams of light 

Stem for awhile the flood of night, 

And tiny stars, like brilliant gems, 

Deep-set in golden diadems, 

In dazzling beauty, twinkle so 

And blend in the gleam of the afterglow. 

Farewell to tiresome toil and care. 
All nature kneels in silent prayer, 
While the soft rays dimmer, dimmer grow 
In the mellow, roseate, afterglow. 



Tfe tftfWgfow 347 



As I idly sit in the waning light 
And watch the silent, star-lit night, 
As she trails her sparkling, sable shroud 
0,er the edge of the rosy, tinted cloud, 
It seems from my heart the burdens roll, 
And a calm, sweet peace steals o'er my soul. 

May the passions of men like the heat of the sun 
Be cooled and calmed e'er their course is run. 
As they sink to rest and fade and go, 
May they leave a peaceful afterglow. 

Like the light in the west when the sun has set, 

Sweet memories linger and cheer us yet. 

No fiery passion the heart then feels, 

But roseate joy thru our being steals, 

And a deeper holier, joy we know 

As we feel in our souls the afterglow. 

The strongest emotion of pleasure will bring 

Some feeling of pain, some grief, some sting. 

Mourn not past joys as we see them go, 

For there yet remains the afterglow. 



348 P©e:T?2$ ©;f ^)ST2llT22€:T2-f 



J 0} / 

By Gertrude Crumb Harman 

v 4 Jh life is a beautiful, beautiful thing! 

Where gay flowers bloom and glad birds 
sing, 
And streams flow ever in musical rhyme, 
And the sun to the heavens each day doth climb, 
And send his beams from his throne above — 
Oh, life is abounding with joy and love! 




By Gertrude Crumb Harman. 

^ \— J E is a gallant gentleman, 
_/ I And wears the blandest smile. 

His clothes are always sure to be 

In just the latest style. 
His hair— cut a la brush heap, 

Hangs o'er his noble brow, 
Behind, cut a la convict. 

He makes the finest bow 
Of any one you ever saw, 

And takes the utmost pains 
To keep his boots like mirrors. 

All, all he lacks is brains. 



X5 8 
















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